


GST Side Stories

by ubernoner



Series: A Ghost and a Specter [2]
Category: Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: Fish out of Water, Found Family, Gen, Graphic depictions of violence - Freeform, Military Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-12
Updated: 2020-11-25
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:07:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 22
Words: 99,175
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24684349
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ubernoner/pseuds/ubernoner
Summary: Nomad was not the first Traveler to be dumped into this Alternate Mass Effect Universe. And he most certainly will not be the last; these are the stories and adventures of the future and current members of the Systems Alliance Group for Specialized Tactics (GST).
Relationships: n/a
Series: A Ghost and a Specter [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1777489
Kudos: 2
Collections: Mass Effect





	1. That's what I get for waking up in Nos Astra

**Author's Note:**

> The following stories are written as authorized expansions on ThePilotArchangel's "A Ghost and a Specter" story. This particular chapter is part of a series written by myself.

The first thing I noticed upon waking up was pain; or rather, a lack thereof. 20 years as a military aircraft mechanic and another four restoring wooden hulled tall ships had left its mark on me: bad knees, aching back, moderate tinnitus, and a fingertip that would live forevermore as a part of the Constitution’s gun deck. Now, my back felt great, my ears didn’t ring, and I could feel with the tip of my left pointer finger. This was a vast improvement over the terrible heartburn and throbbing left arm I had gone to sleep with the night before. I had simply collapsed on the couch rather than risking the stairs.

Then I went and ruined it by opening my eyes. I was in an alleyway, laying on a discarded pile of detritus, looking up at a sky just slightly the wrong shade of blue. I stared blankly for a moment until the air car flew overhead, then I bolted upright. A clatter drew my attention, and I found my phone, tablet and wallet roughly where I had left them on the coffee table. I was still in my Carharts, steel toe boots and heavy flannel shirt. I saw I was alone in the alley for the moment, so I used that moment to gather my wits and belongings. 

My first impulse was to see where my phone’s GPS said I was. I was glad to see it was fully charged, though it looked like it was still charging. I also saw there was a very strong Wi-Fi signal. What I didn’t see was a geotag for the local weather; just a “No Signal Detected” which made no sense, and a prompt to update. I sat down and set my phone to update, determined to call a cab or an Uber once it was done, then opened my tablet. I got the same strong Wi-Fi and charging signals, and the same prompt to update. It became quickly apparent that I wasn’t getting on the web without the update, so I set my tablet aside to do that and just looked around.

That was when the Blue Woman Group and a Sleestack couple walked by the alley’s entrance. Thankfully they didn’t notice me, or didn’t care because I was frozen in shock while staring like a tourist. I don’t know how long I stared into space, but the dual beeps from my devices woke me from my fugue. The updates were done. It was time to get some answers.

Those answers were not comforting. I didn’t recognize the dating system, nor the name Nos Astra. I did however recognize the name Illium. I spent a good 10 minutes fighting off a full blown panic attack. I could read what was written in front of me, so I wasn’t dreaming, and there were no reports I had ever heard of concerning lucid experiences while in a coma. I was uncomfortably warm and doubting my surroundings, so Descartes held true:  _ Dubito, ergo Cogito, ergo Sum, res Cogitans. _ I doubt, therefore I think, therefore I am: a thinking being. Every fact I read pointed to my existing inside a video game I had heard of, read and watched fiction of, but had never played. ‘Matrix’ and ‘Total Recall’ scenarios ran through my head until I slapped myself.  _ Carpe Diem _ , seize the day! Whether I was in a computer simulation, or Purgatory, or actually on a planet from a Sci-Fi video game didn’t matter; I was here, and I needed to work with that.

I gathered my things once more and stood up. That’s when the two Batarians stepped into the alley with me. It doesn’t take a killer to recognize a killer, and that was what these two were. I didn’t need any Treknobabble translator to get the gist of what they were saying when they stalked towards me while drawing knives. Now I should preface right now that I am not a warrior or a super soldier. Some members of various militaries would probably go so far as to say I wasn’t ever a soldier. I was a military mechanic and a carpenter, a military history enthusiast from my reenacting days and decade long participation in the SCA and various Historical European Martial Arts groups. More importantly though, I was a forty two year old man in a twenty year old’s body, and that’s a lot of time to compile an assortment of dirty tricks.

I raised my hands, holding my tablet in my left while backing towards the nearby dumpster; it would limit my escape, but it would also limit their approach. Plus, I didn’t trust the locals to come to my aid if these two gave chase. I would have only one chance at this.

Both seemed to take great glee in my seeming fear and I  _ guess _ began taunting me. I will forever be thankful that Hubris is a universally deadly sin, since this pair decided only one was needed to kill me and that arrogance saved my life. One of the two stood a good ten feet back while the other advanced. When he got five feet from me, he lunged to stab me in the gut. I swatted the blade hand to the outside with my tablet while grabbing his shirt and, with his own momentum, slammed his face into the dumpster’s rigid right-angle welded corner. He made a faint squeaking noise as he collapsed on the ground.

His partner in crime was much less quiet as he charged me. I ducked under his wild swing and went for one of the less savory medieval wrestling techniques I had learned, but never had cause to practice. A childish voice in my head piped up with a quote from “The Monster Squad”; I’m certain the batarian at that moment wished he  _ didn’t _ , ‘got nards’ as I used them to hoist him off the ground and dump him head first on the alley floor. As he was still flailing and making noise I kneeled on his chest, pinning his knife arm with my foot. I then introduced his head to mankind’s oldest and most versatile tool: the rock. The entire altercation took less than ten seconds.

I stood and surveyed my gruesome work, and promptly collapsed on my detritus bed and threw up. I don’t know if I was more thankful or concerned by the lack of citizen or police response to the noise we had made, but I decided if I was stuck in a bizarre video game world, then it was time to act like it. I dragged the corpses deeper into the alley, behind the dumpster, then moved some of the alley’s trash to conceal the signs of the fight. I then turned to the age old gamer task of rifling my opponents pockets for loose change. The second of them had an Omni-tool, while the first had a small pistol. As I said, God Bless the universality of Hubris. They both had what I assumed were credit chits. There were a number of other odds and ends which seemed out of place on a pair of murderous thugs, so I assumed they were trophies. I decided that if I could figure out who they belonged to, I might be able to give them back, or at least give their families some closure. I was going to need allies to survive here.

Their clothing lacked any uniformity, so I assumed they weren’t in a gang, which was good since my shirt was blood soaked and torn in several places. I took the first attackers jacket as it wasn’t covered in blood. I used his shirt to wrap up my new collection of worldly possessions: a pistol and two knives (you never know when a knife will come in handy) a half dozen assorted nicknacks, twice as many credit chits and my phone, tablet and wallet. Putting the omni-tool on my arm and dressing the first attacker in my ruined shirt, I then set out onto the streets of Nos Astra in the hopes of finding my way home.

...

I found an open air park to sit and tinker. I opened my tablet and phone and started doing some basic research. The ‘oh-so-convenient’ update turned out to be the Illium State monitoring software patching into any wireless connectable hardware. The Wi-Fi there was strong enough to charge my devices at the same time as well. I was (mostly) fine with this, though there was the chance it would lead the police to me if anyone checked on my two victims. Thankfully, in my research on how to access and reprogram their Omni-tool, I found they had installed a sort of privacy program that prevented their metadata from being used to track them. I was equally thankful that for those two, while brutally cruel, this had been the extent of their Information-Security savvy. There were no restrictions on accessing the omni-tool, and in short order I was happily playing with my new prize.

I chose to research the credit chits, finding they were essentially prepaid credit cards that could be reloaded. Transferring all the credits onto one chit, and checking exchange rates and cost of living, I figured I had enough to live decently for a week; three if I lived like a dorm-rat, but not enough to buy passage off world. I also started researching the history of the current universe. I confirmed most of the facts I was passingly familiar with. 

I also came upon a questionnaire that asked five simple, yet logically impossible questions. I gave the name “Hiram Abiff” and forged ahead. They were simple enough, though I waffled the second with, “depends on how you play”. Number four simply got “J.H.”. I did  _ not _ want Cerberus to come looking for me. With the final question answered, I waited. Five minutes later, there was a ping on my tablet with a question attached:  _ Where are you?  _

It had only been a few hours since I had woken up, but it felt like days worth of stress, and with that simple question all that stress lifted. I looked up the prices of the local hotels I had researched, and booked a room for two weeks. Taking a leap of faith, I gave that information to my ghostly interrogator. It was another five minutes before the next response:  _ Be ready to leave in five days. _

Having an actual sense of how long I was going to be on Illium did wonders for my nerves, and I settled in for the ride. I headed for my new home by way of the Asari equivalent of a department store; I desperately needed new clothes. My Omni-tool was a bare bones model, only more functional than my smart phone in that it had holographic controls. I opted to upload an Asari Phrase book, as well as a basic language primer. I felt like I needed the distraction of the new device, since despite my actual age, I was in the body of a twenty year old American Male, and I was flanked on all sides by a race that seemed to have evolved to be swimsuit models. 

Once finally settled into my room, I really started doing research: sociology, science and mathematics, and anything I could learn on the various keepsakes. The first three led to an unsettling discovery: with every species, once they discovered the Mass Effect principle (universally by finding Prothean artifacts) they discontinued all other research into similar fields not carried on by the Protheans. It wasn’t that the science and math were debunked, but rather a malaise in regards to those fields: the math of faster-than-light objects by James Hill and Barry Cox, Negative Energy Space Warping by Miguel Allcubierre and Harold White. Even the 2015 findings regarding Gravity Waves and General relativity as well as the Higgs Boson and it’s relation to Time and Mass had been simply ignored in favor of Mass Effect science. 

My own personal fascination with the subjects was the only reason I had several papers by the associated scientist. From my initial read on the net, these might be the only copies of those works left in existance. I was reminded of a fan theory I had heard that not only were the various races of the Galaxy part of a Citadel Council backed Cargo Cult, but the technology itself might contain some small shred of Reaper Indoctrination. I started madly making notes on my findings and beliefs, as well as drawing out basic designs for potential re-writes of various technologies. If we were really going to be facing the Reapers, I felt we needed to not try to beat them at their own game.

After collapsing from hunger and exhaustion, I decided a change of pace was needed. I instead focused on the keepsakes; I only had three and a half days until I was picked up, and I needed to keep busy. It also kept me from fixating on my memories of the two from the alley. Most of the items were either so innocuous or so common that they could have belonged to anyone. The last one was a small holographic cameo of an Asari. I lucked out and found an online facial marking recognition program that identified the image as Kala D’Lano and gave her address.

The day before my pickup, I headed to the home of Kala with only my Omni-tool, pistol, knife, and the cameo. It was an iffy part of town, but I had remembered and learned that on Illium, that was entirely subjective. I knocked on the door to the apartment directly opposite a stairwell and waited. It was opened by a frantic Kala who was, I could only guess, calling another being’s name. Her demeanor dampened when she saw me and asked a question. One of the other benefits of being fortytwo, you could tell when you were dealing with a family member waiting for someone. It took some pantomime for her to understand I was neither fluent, nor in possession of a translation program. I brought up my phrase book and asked, “Are you Kala D’Lano?”

She smirked and giggled at that and corrected my pronunciation. That simple gesture made my heart break a little at what I was likely going to do to her by giving her the cameo. I was really starting to hate Illium. I took one of her hands and set the cameo in it as reverently as I could. I had only ever seen that kind of grief in my own family when our ‘Greatest Generation’ started dying off. I hugged the distraught Asari and simply repeated over and over, “I’m sorry.” In that moment I had the absurd hope that this really was a game and those two animals could respawn so I could spend a year just killing them over and over.

She gathered herself and stepped back. Whatever she was going to say was preempted by her screaming and throwing one of her hands up. There was a sudden surge, like electricity and standing too close to the inlet of a running jet engine followed by a squawk. I spun around and saw yet another Batarian getting up off the floor, a long arm of some kind laying next to him. I rushed over, set the barrel of my pistol against the top of his head and pulled the trigger. An enraged yell drew my attention to the other two Batarians coming up the stairs, followed by what I assumed was a Krogan. I fired blindly down the stairwell with my pistol until it overheated, then picked up the long arm. It turned out to be a shotgun and made short work of the last two Batarians. 

The Krogan was less impressed. This was the first time I had seen a kinetic barrier at work, and I could say with confidence that I didn’t like it. He bellowed something and charged up the stairs. I took a chance and threw the Batarian corpse on top of him as he was coming up, then opened fire on his hands and legs. I was rewarded with an inarticulate scream, just before he threw the corpse back at me. I was knocked into Kala’s now closed door and the shotgun was sent down the hall. By the time I got the body off of me, the Krogan had made it to the top of the stairs. His right hand was missing, and his left leg was bent at a bad angle, but his eyes were fine and filled with unreasoning bloodlust. He lunged forward and grabbed me by the neck before lifting me off the ground. I took my knife and jammed the blade into his wrist before dragging it the length of his forearm. He dropped me instantly and I scrambled away. I saw my pistol on the ground where I had dropped it, but so did he. I had just made the lunge when the hallway, and the Krogan in it, was filled with automatic weapons fire.

I spun sloppily to see what looked like a pair of humanoids dressed as French Foreign Legionnaires in death masks and balaclavas. It’s probably best for everyone that my cheap pistol was still overheated, as I heard a woman’s voice ask in perfect, if heavily accented english, “Hiram Abiff?” I just sat there laughing hysterically until I started crying in relief.

The second came up and carefully disarmed me as he helped me stand. “Come on soldier, let’s get you out of here.” His speech sounded South African, while hers was more Asiatic in accent.

“I’m an Airman, thank you very much.” I groused once standing. “We need to swing by my hotel room and collect my things.”

She looked at me for a moment. “Already done. We need to leave, now.” 

I staggered towards the fallen shotgun. “Did you get my security deposit too?” He chuckled, while she glared at me. I didn’t need to see her eyes to know that was a glare. I walked over and knocked on Kala’s door again. I was very relieved when she opened the door. I was handing her the shotty when she lurched forward in a rib-creaking hug. It took a bit to get her pried off, then me and my mystery escort headed up the stairs towards the roof. “So... your boss; I don’t suppose some would call him, TIM?”

She snorted a quick laugh while he shook his head. “No we aren’t Cerberus. We’re with a currently unaffiliated organization with the goal of preventing  _ them _ from coming through.”

We stepped out onto the apartment roof as sirens wailed below. There was an air car waiting with the cabin doors opened. The driver said something in French as we all piled in. True to their word, my personal effects were in the back of the car with me. I slumped in my seat as we lifted off and headed towards what I assumed was the space port. I have no idea what the gamer opinion of the setting was, but I was absolutely done with Illium.


	2. Aboard the Spirit of Fire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nomad was not the first Traveler to be dumped into this Alternate Mass Effect Universe. And he most certainly will not be the last; these are the stories and adventures of the future and current members of the Systems Alliance Group for Specialized Tactics (GST).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The following stories are written as authorized expansions on ThePilotArchangel's "A Ghost and a Specter" story. This particular chapter is part of a series written by myself.

The GST called it the “Spirit of Fire”. It looked the part too. Alarmingly so. I wondered if there had been travelers in earlier eras. Anyway, she was impressive, if only in scale. 

My French chauffeur, who insisted on being called ‘Ezio’, glanced back into the cabin of the shuttle. “ **Voila! Bienvenue a’ la maison**.” 

One of my two escorts, ‘Min-ji’ piped up from beside me. “He says ‘welcome home.’”

I could only stare dumbly. I had wanted to be an astronaut since I was a small child; ironically, ever since I saw the Challenger disaster on a news report. The mystery and majesty of space and space travel were a distraction that, to be honest, always felt out of reach. Yet here I was; the final frontier. “Welcome home indeed.”

My other escort, ‘Rambro’, snarked from the back of the cabin. “Yeah, the novelty will wear off soon enough.” He patted me on the shoulder before settling into his jump seat and locking the harness. “You might want to strap in. Ezio likes to drive like a Parisian Minibus Driver.” Min-ji joined Rambro in locking herself in. I didn’t need to speak French to know Ezio’s opinion of their faith in his skills.

Based on our approach and landing, I assumed Ezio had been either a Med-Evac or Combat Helicopter pilot prior to ‘traveling’. We stepped out onto a voluminous but crowded hangar. There were dozens of people running around as almost indistinct announcements blared out over the PA system in several languages. A Drell in a flight-deck helmet and a white vest ran up to our shuttle. “You Hiram Abiff?” 

I nodded, slightly alarmed at the close proximity and familiarity of the non-human. 

Rambro chuffed. “Easy there Sykes. Hiram’s still _Travel Lagged;_ only been here five days.”

Sykes nodded at that. “You three are on twelve hours crew-rest, then report to briefing three. Command should have another tasking for you by then.” He turned back to me. “You’re coming with me to Medical for In-Processing.” He then headed deeper into the hangar. I gave a frantic wave to my rescuers and rushed after him.

Sykes slowed down once we were out of the bustle of the flight deck. “Sorry about the rush, but we have two other Fire-Teams inbound, one with wounded.”

My head was on a swivel as we made our way through the ship. “No worries. And sorry about staring earlier. I just didn’t know any of us came through as anything but human.”

He shrugged non-comitaly. “It took some getting used to. Color perception is off and sense of touch is diminished, but my memory’s sharper than it has ever been. I could write textbooks I only glanced at in college word-for-word now. Could be worse.” We hugged a bulkhead as a medical team rushed towards the hangar. “Ziva was a 5’ 5” lady from Tel Aviv, now she’s a Krogan Bull. Lotta anger in that one.”

We wound our way through the ship until we arrived at the Medical Clinic. “Here’s where I leave you.” Sykes nodded to the check-in desk. “Just sign in with Sweets, and they’ll get you squared away.” With a handshake, he was off, and I was left to the mercy of the ship’s medical team.

...

We (the GST) lucked out in getting a dozen EMT’s, two Navy Corpsmen, a Registered Nurse from Minsk, a retired Canadian Army Surgeon, and a Veterinarian from Zoo Berlin. There were also a smattering of Med school students wrangled into acting as Orderlies to help with the GST’s peculiar medical needs. That didn’t make the medical exam any less invasive or uncomfortable, but at least it was familiar. With the many individuals running around, I got a chance to see just how diverse a group this ‘GST’ was. Most were humans, but there was a decent mix of other species as well. A few seemed more stressed than others, but everyone was as supportive as possible. The other thing I noticed was that like me, everyone was in their prime. Every person, whether ‘Ghost’ as I heard some of the fire team members call themselves, or ‘Skell Techies’ as most of the non-combatants were referred to, were in peak physical condition.

Once Sweets and the med-techs were finished, I had a map loaded onto my Omni and was told to report to the Personnel Center to be assessed and assigned a section, as well as a billet, a payroll number and account. When I got there, I was directed to the desk of a slight Middle Eastern woman.

She shook my hand and gestured to a chair across from her. “Welcome aboard the Spirit of Fire. Call me Paki; everyone does.” She had a distinct British accent.

I paused in seating myself. “Well that doesn’t seem flattering. How about I call you Bene Said?” 

There was a wisp of smile on her face. “I think I’d like that better. Anyway, I’ll be your Case Evaluation Officer. I’ll be assessing your skills and placing you where you can do the most good; or the least damage, depending on what I see. Now, you’ve stated your name as Hiram Abiff. Is that what you wish on our formal records?”

I nodded. “Yes ma’am.”

“Good. Next: military experience?”

“20 years, US Air Force enlisted. I was an aircraft mechanic, precision flight control rigger and a crash recovery specialist.”

She raised an eyebrow as she looked through her records. “Hm, you’re the first recovery specialist we’ve gotten. Any combat experience.”

I smirked. “Unless you consider Civil War reenacting or SCA fighting, then only basic small-arms training. I joined the Air Force to _avoid_ getting shot at.” My smile faded. “Surviving Nos Astra, but that was more dumb luck than training.”

She didn’t seem to notice my mood shift as she made more notes. “Alright. Highest level of education?”

“Bachelors of Arts in Military Studies through online courses.”

She hummed as she kept typing. “And what does that entail?”

“It’s like a BA in History, but not focusing on history. It isn’t really useful except to say I got the Degree.”

She looked at me for a second, then went back to typing. After a minute, she sat back and looked at me. “I’m going to schedule you for a battery of primer courses on small arms and small unit tactics, as well as our basic introduction to Mass Effect technology and space frames. I want to see about having you assigned to a Recovery, Assessment and Salvage team. They are moderate risk; nowhere near a Ghost Fire Team, but you could still run into trouble with other scavengers. Does this meet with your approval?”

I considered for a moment. Most of my career, I had never questioned my choice in enlistment; especially as it allowed me to be stationed in europe for several years. But once 9/11 rolled around, there had been a growing sense that I hadn’t been doing enough. This felt like a chance to correct that. I stood and reached out to shake Said’s hand. “Where do I sign up?”

...

Bene Said’s “Primers on Small Arms and Small Unit Tactics” turned out to be a group two week crash course conducted by a surly Turian Scandinavian called “Bjorn”. Between his alien appearance, temperament, and his penchant for devolving into Swedish when riled, my class took to calling him Grendel; just never where he could hear us. I was immediately assigned as the machine gunner for my training squad. 

On the morning of day two of combat training, I woke in a cold sweat from a nightmare. I tried to put it behind me, but by the middle of the day I was distracted and irritable enough for Bjorn to call a halt to training and send me to see Bene Said. “Hiram, I got a message from Bjorn saying you were very distracted today; fumbling weapons, snapping at fellow trainees. If you aren’t certain of yourself, we can put you in the Skell Tech program.”

I was all but shaking in shame. “No!” I barked out, then calmed myself. “No, I want to be a part of this program. I just... I need to talk to a counselor is all.”

A wave of depression hit me as soon as the words left my mouth. I was convinced that wasn’t an option for me. The statistical likelihood of a trained grief/trauma counselor being a Traveler as well was so astronomically low as to be laughable.

“I’ll notify Capt. Dube to expect you.” 

I started at that. “You have a counselor?”

She smiled comfortingly. “We have a South African Army Chaplain.”

When I arrived at the massive Bantu priest’s office, I was met by another Traveler leaving. It was heartening to know that not only was I not alone in this, but the GST was making sure we were taken care of. Whatever I did or did not say with the good Capt. is strictly between him, me, and God. Ultimately, after a month of counseling I was given a tentative clean bill of health (with expected weekly visits) and allowed to complete Bjorn’s training. 

Several of my class were immediately routed to the so called ‘Ghosts School’ for placement in a Ghost Fire Team. The rest of us were a mixed bag of technical skills, including two Fire Jumpers from Pike’s Peak Station everyone called ‘Hans und Frans’, and an EOD tech from Mexico City who simply went by ‘Juan’. We, and half a dozen others, were shuffled off to remedial Tech School near the ‘Spirit’s’ air wing. 

Our instructor, Latoya, was also a former Air Force mechanic; though in her case she served her four, got an Aerospace Engineering Degree and went to work for Boeing. “Morning ladies and gentlemen. I am tasked with teaching you everything we currently know and are learning about Eezo, it’s applications, and what _not_ to do around it. Let’s begin.”

The things I learned during the following two weeks amounted to: the GST had scientists among their ranks, keep magnets and charged particle beams away from Eezo, and that it somehow acted directly on the large timelike dimension without affecting the Higgs Field or Boson. A lot of what was said made only the slightest bit of sense, but it told me something very important: as an organization, the GST had no intention of being caught in the Reaper’s technology-trap.

We received brief reviews on the various small craft used by the GST and the broader galaxy. This was mainly so we’d know what to look for as things of importance, and what to not touch at any cost. At one point, the Chief of Scientific research Dr. Helix, paid our class a visit. “While your teams will largely work for Ghosts Arc and Mira in asset recovery and retrieval, you will periodically receive tasking from my office. We are desperately in need of any and all research into alternative theories and technologies to combat the Reaper threat.”

I raised my hand. “Would that include talking papers and formulas from the 20th and 21st centuries, or does your office have those.” I received a number of odd looks from my classmates.

Dr. Helix gave a humorless chuckle. “No, we don’t as of yet. But unless you have copies of Dr. Alcubierrie’s research--”

I had recently finished downloading my tablet’s files onto my Omni, so it was simple enough to send them to the class monitor. “His, Hill and Cox’s papers on Relativistic Mass at speeds greater than C, Ueba and Takahara’s research into converting heat into IR.” Dr. Helix and the class boggled for a moment. “What? I like science, I just never got a degree in it.”

Dr. Helix’s voice could be heard dopplering down the corridors, ordering teams to begin reviewing the math against what they knew and ranting about not needing to start from scratch. Latoya cleared her throat. “That’s _another_ thing your teams will be sent out for.” The class resumed, though it felt as if I was given somewhat more scrutiny than before. I mentioned as much to Capt. Dube during my weekly visit.

“Are you truly surprised? You have garnered their attention and respect by recognizing what you had was important.”

I leaned forward in my chair. “Being respected because I hoard ebooks doesn’t feel like an accomplishment. It’s so arbitrary. Im... worried they’ll expect ‘great things’ from me, and I’ll end up getting people killed.”

The Zulu considered me for a moment. “Is it really so arbitrary? We as an organization, and this galaxy as a whole _needed_ what you had, and you had the presence of mind to preserve it. We’ve discussed your faith before.” He stood and walked over to a small Lutheran Shrine. “I’ve studied theology for most of my life. I’ve never doubted the existence of miracles, but I never expected to have one occur. I believed in the soul, but never had such empirical proof as our being _traveled_ here.” 

He turned and faced me. “In light of this, is it really unreasonable to assume we were all _specifically_ brought to this place, at this time, with our foreknowledge and willingness to help? Would it really be so absurd a thought, after every impossibility we have collectively experienced, to believe that we are each here _on purpose_ ?” He sat down across from me again. “I don’t think any of us are here as a _Messiah_ , but I do think that we are each, individually meant to be here. Take heart in that.”

...

One of the ‘graduation’ projects we all participated in was to craft our personal kit for field operations. I had intended to take a page from the character of Jason Quill of Marvel fame and, ‘make some weird shit!’ When we got down to the fabrication plant, I found several people had beat me to the punch. One tiny Japanese woman was gleefully swinging what I guessed to be a Mass Effect field enhanced copy of Cloud’s ‘Buster Sword’ from “Final Fantasy”, while another individual polished the carapace of something resembling a Landmate from the “Appleseed” manga. I shrugged it off and sat down at my terminal to design my gear. 

All kits started with a basic enhanced mobility hard-suit. I stripped all of the outer shell and began beefing the servos driving the joints; I was going to be lifting heavy loads, not playing patty-cake with an Asari Commando. I hoped. Next, I decided on an enhanced active power supply. I was not as concerned with stealth and low emissions as with my ability to remotely power subsystems for access. With the abundance of power, I opted to layer armor more akin to a 20th or 21st century Plate carrier, as well as as a Tech Armor enhanced Kinetic barrier with a secondary EM field generator for dealing with radiation. And potentially, high energy weapons. I attached an armature with an Omni-tool for whatever I would need, including a plasma cutting torch. 

The last item was more a vanity piece, but I had to try. One of the ideas I had been playing around with since arriving was a Hard X-Ray Laser (HXL) generator. I was confident I could design it (with significant VI help). It turned out, a lot of the ground-work had already been done, and all I had to do was scale the system down and integrate it. In the design process, I figured out that I could make a dual purpose Charged Particlebeam Gun and HXL without too much difficulty. Scaled down, the weapon system was still the size of a medium machinegun and weighed in at 68 kg. Thankfully, my design for the suit was more than up to the task of both powering and carrying the weapon, as long as it was on it’s own dedicated armature. 

The final touches were holsters for my knife and pistol. I had become strangely attached to the awful thing. Once the parameters were entered, I set the order into the que for fabrication.

The second part of our graduation was no less thrilling: flight lessons. It had been reasoned that, as we were expected to potentially retrieve starships, we should have a rudimentary knowledge on how to use them. As an incentive, we were all promised Astronaut’s Wings. I found that my own skills as a pilot matched up quite well with Ezio’s. Maybe he had just been a Parisian Cabbie as Rambro had suggested.

Once we were certified and our armor finished, we formed up in the hangar for our formal graduation and unit assignments. Our personal quest to protect the galaxy from the Reaper threat had begun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ThePilotArchangel has extended the invitation to any fans of his story to participate. Simply go to his page on FF.net https://www.fanfiction.net/u/8343608/ThePilotArchangel and message him


	3. Fear and Loathing in the Traverse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nomad was not the first Traveler to be dumped into this Alternate Mass Effect Universe. And he most certainly will not be the last; these are the stories and adventures of the future and current members of the Systems Alliance Group for Specialized Tactics (GST).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The following stories are written as authorized expansions on ThePilotArchangel's "A Ghost and a Specter" story. This particular chapter is part of a series written by myself.

<Retrieval Team Jawa, please report to Mission Briefing. Retrieval Team Jawa, please report to Mission Briefing.>

Hans glared at his brother while Juan and I started cleaning up our cafeteria trays. “Bruh! Jawa? Seriously? I thought we were gonna go with ‘Team Wrekd’!”

Frans just puffed his chest out. “Hey, I won the coin toss so I picked the name.”

“What, so we’re a bunch of little brown dudes talking gibberish and rummaging through trash?”

Frans gave his brother a severe look while glancing at Juan. Said ‘brown dude’ was angrily firing off a string of Spanish as we walked to the Personnel Section. 

I sidled up to him. “I know I’m not fluent in Spanish, but that sounded suspiciously like a Catholic Catechism.”

He snorted. “Anything sounds like cursing if you say it in the right tone of voice.” We both chuckled as Hans and Frans caught up while rattling off apologies.

We walked into the briefing room just as Fire Team Ajax and Retrieval Team Waldo were leaving. We were greeted by our Case Officer, Bene Said. “Good Morning gentlemen.”

“Good morning  **Senorita** . What’s on the docket today?” Juan, having risen to the rank of Lt. in the Mexico City Police Department, was the de facto commander of our team.

She pushed a button on her podium, showing a hologram of what looked like a wagon wheel. “We have reliable intelligence of a spin gravity station orbiting a gas giant in the THX-1138 system. And before you start in, this is the translation of the Citadel Council designation.” We all groaned and chuckled at another of this universes little absurdities. She typed at her console and the Wheel was replaced with a circuitous navigation map. “It’s on the edge of what we know as Terminus Warlord territory, so you’ll be taking the scenic route to get there. We have no Ghost Teams for support, but both Arc and Dr. Helix feel this is worth the risk.”

She stepped around the podium. “Due to the expected duration of this mission, you’ll be assigned one of the Star-Bugs, the ‘Marvin’.” We all raised our eyebrows at that. The Star-Bugs were the first independently designed ships in the GST’s growing fleet. “FO Latoya will meet you at Dock Three. Grab your gear and head out.”

We headed to the armory and checked out our various mission Hardsuits in their crates and wheeled them out to the embarcation docks, where Flight Officer Latoya was waiting. Through the observation window, we could see the Spirit’s growing arsenal of auxiliary craft. Among them was a sleek black delta winged ship. One of the newest designs to come out of Dr. Helix’s Skell Techie workshops, the ‘Longsword’ was a menacing sight to behold, and the pride of the Ghost Fire Teams.

This however, was not our ship. The Star-Bug ‘Marvin’ could be seen on the end of a Shipway gantry. It and her sister ships were more akin to the ‘Discovery’ from “2001: a Space Odyssey”. Each was a 60 meter spire with conical command module (CM), a pair of 15 meter retractable booms in the middle for spin gravity, and a 15 meter wide engine block and heat management plant at the other. In between were several modules ranging from Apollo style landing and launch capsules, to detachable sensor systems, to Canadarm manipulators and cargo holds. 

The design’s claim to fame was her engine system. A pair of 5 MW Stellerators were used as Nuclear thermal rockets using spent reactor fuel for re-mass. They also powered a central charged particle beam at the heart of an X-Ray Laser Engine for FTL travel. There was even a rectifier tied into the Eezo core’s capacitor banks, allowing the stored charge to power the ship. This meant her operational FTL range was only limited by her stores. The system was incredibly efficient, using a quarter of the fuel and Eezo of ships half her size. Star-Bugs were also notoriously cramped and uncomfortable ships, but there was no small amount of pride at the independant design.

“Morning Jawas!” FO Latoya grinned as she greeted us, even as Hans groaned. “Marvin’s stocked and ready to go. Your course is already programmed in, so you should just need to push the button and relax for the ride.”

Juan shook his head. “As close as we’re going to be to the Terminus, I don’t think we’ll be relaxing at all this trip.”

Frans clapped him on the back. “Come on Bruh! Where’s your sense of adventure?”

Juan snorted and punched in the code for the airlock. “Blown off by the same bomb that  _ traveled _ me here.” He turned to Latoya. “Anything we need to know?”

She pointed to one of the conical modules attached to the ship’s length. “She’s been equipped with Dr. Helix’s new Delphi system. You’re briefed on it, right?”

I barked a laugh. “Everybody heard about it. The good Doctor was cackling like 30’s pulp radio villain, going on about, ‘they said it could never be done!’ But yeah, we got trained on it.”

She nodded. “Alright. She’s all yours.” She saluted us as the airlock opened.

We returned the salute and headed down the microgravity Shipway to the ‘Marvin’. Several techs were finishing loading supplies once we were aboard. An Asari in Deck Officer Green was managing them. “She’s all set boys: two months supply of food, water and Deuterium tanks are full and the algae tanks and scrubbers are fresh. You bring my baby back without a scratch, you hear?” Nobody was certain whether Rex was from Wisconsin or Canada, but their friendly demeanor belied a deep resentment at being a man trapped in an Asari’s body.

Hans lightly clapped the deck officer on the shoulder. “Don’t worry Rex, we’ll bring her back safe and sound.”

Rex nodded, then whistled to the rest of the crew. With short controlled bursts of Biotic power, they made their way to the Shipway. Once the techs were out of the way we stowed our gear and headed to the CM at the prow of the ship. We had another hour of checks before the ship was ready for launch. Hans and Frans, as the only truly certified pilots among us, were settled into the pilot and navigator stations, while Juan and I were locked into the sensors/communications and engineering/environmental control stations.

Juan keyed up the com system. “Spirit Traffic Control, this is Marvin. We are locked and all systems green; standing by.”

<Marvin, Spirit Traffic Control, standby for Shipway and umbilical disconnect.> There was a thump from the middle of the ship and we began drifting. <Umbilical and Shipway clear. Standby for magnetic kick.> The ship lurched slightly as electromagnets pushed the Marvin away from the Spirit. <Marvin, Spirit Traffic Control, you are clear and free to navigate. God-speed.>

“ **Vaya con Dios** , Spirit. Hans, take us out.” Micro gravity became three G’s as our nuclear torch drives were throttled up, and we were on our way.

...

The trade off for efficiency, was speed. Star-Bugs were not fast ships. The trip to THX-1138 which we intended to rename “George”, both in honor of our remembered creator of the film “THX-1138” and the orange giant star itself, took three days alone. Contrary to popular culture, long duration space missions were not monotonous slogs, as there never seemed to be enough time to get all our work done simply maintaining the ship. After navigating the Relay network and avoiding being observed, we arrived at George.

“Alright  **hermanos** , let’s drop the Delphi at one AU above the target and see what’s what.” 

It took a good hour to get into position and release the Delphi probe. They were laughably simple devices; essentially just Comm Buoys with a large collapsible Radar and a 1 meter aperture telescope in addition to their laser com. They had an effective real-time sensing and communication range of one light-hour. Why nobody else was using them was chalked up to a combo of the Cargo-Cult mentality, and possible Reaper influence.

It didn’t take long to spot the station orbiting the gas giant. It looked to be about 500 meters across, but even with the Delphi we were too far away to see more than the shape and size. 

Frans was floating over Juan’s shoulder. “Well, there it is  **el Jefe** . Shall we get in there?” 

Juan kept staring at the image. I looked over my shoulder at him. “LT? Something wrong?”

He licked his lips nervously. “Yeah, but I’m not sure what.”

“Should we abort? Just tell Spirit, ‘We came, we saw, we were creeped out and left’?” Hans asked from Navigation.

He pursed his lips, then shook his head. “No, we go in; but not straight on.” He widened the view until the entire ‘Jovian system’ was on the monitor. “We’ll leave the Delphi here on overwatch. Bring us in on the far side, by this moon here and orbit to the station. We’ll take a closer look with Marvin’s Big Eye and see what’s going on.”

We gave a chorus of “Ayes” and we were on our way. The planet’s system of moons was less congested than either Juipiter or Saturn, but still required finesse to navigate. Once on the station’s side of the planet, we turned Marvin’s 3 meter aperture telescope on our target.

“ **Mierda!** ” We all looked at Juan in surprise. “It’s just junk lashed together in a big ring!”

Hans and Frans spun around. “What?!”

I was madly bringing the various power systems up to full. “It’s bait for a trap; get us outta here!”

The brothers had just started swinging us around when the Big Eye spotted something detach from the junk wheel and turn towards us. It looked like an older model of Turian frigate. A Turian’s flanging voice was translated over our comms system. <Unidentified ship. You will power down and prepare to be boarded. Failure to comply will be met with deadly force. You have 30 seconds to comply>

“Shit Bruh! It’ll take us that long just to get up to speed!” Frans looked at Juan for guidance until he saw me still working my controls. “What are you up to Hiram?”

“Getting ready to teach them the ‘Kzinti Lesson’. Get our ass pointed dead center on them and standby for a kick!”

Frans’ eyes lit up. “Juan, help me aim!”

Juan did as asked with a puzzled look. “What are we doing?”

Frans nodded to me. “This.” I pressed a button, and the ship shuddered as the ME Core capacitors all simultaneously discharged into the FTL driver beam. My adjustments to our mass effect field emitters created a gravity lens that turned our X-Ray laser engine into a short lived, high intensity X-Ray laser pulse. A bright purple flash appeared on the hull of our opponents ship.

All was silent for a moment. <So be it.> We all started to panic until the frigate was rocked by an explosion and began slowly tumbling.

Hans gasped. “Okay, before I have to stress puke, what just happened.”

I got out of my seat and floated towards Juan’s station. “Can you focus in?” The image of the ship zoomed in. We saw a gaping hole on her spine. “Nice aim Frans, looks like we hit her right in the middle of her gun.”

Juan nodded in understanding while Frans whooped and slapped his brother’s back. “So when she tried to fire on us, the gun blew. Very quick thinking.” He turned to consider me. “I’d say give more warning next time, but as we didn’t have any time...”

Hans had his breathing under control. “Okay, we know what this is. Can we go now?”

Juan was nodding when I shook my head. “We know what, but not why or who. That was too disciplined a response for some Terminus backwater warlord.” I nodded to the construct. “Someone went to a lot of trouble and effort to lay a trap, and we; all of us need to know if it was meant for the GST.”

Hans and Frans looked pleadingly at Juan, but he shook his head. “Hiram’s right. We came here for answers, so let’s get some. You two stay with the ‘Marvin’. Anything happens, you bug out and let the Spirit know.” He unbuckled and floated to the CM’s hatch. He looked at me. “You and I are taking the Dinghy over.” 

...

The ‘Dinghy’ was our non-atmospheric excursion module. They were nearly identical, on the outside, to a Soyuz orbiter. Inside they were more heavily armored, with slightly more room to accomodate most hardsuits. Mine and Juan’s were not ‘most’. His had been patterned after a more streamlined EOD hazard suit, and was significantly more bulky than most. 

Juan docked us at a service hatch near the Drive Core. “First, we make sure she isn’t about to blow up, then we see if she’s salvageable. If she is, we take her to site Beta with us and let Shultz have her. If she isn’t, we strip her computer and anything useful, then scuttle her. You’re point.”

I nodded as we opened the hatch. I always went first since my PA/X-Ray cannon had both the most punch, and the most intimidation factor. There were lights and gravity, but the ship’s tumble made everything feel like she was listing. We both pulled out a handful of micro-drones and set them to map the ship.

I looked around, panning my gun as we went. The interior was in significantly better shape than the outside. “This is a lot of effort to keep the corridors looking nice, but let the hull go to pot.”

He nodded, his own MP-7 based submachine gun held at the ready. “Yeah, almost like they want people to mistake the ship for a pirate vessel.”

We arrived at engineering and found our first casualty: a Salarian floated motionless inside the inert ME core. I patched into one of the consoles. “It’s all in Turian. Gimme a second.” I loaded a translation program and let the system update.

He came over to the monitor. “Alright, ‘ _ Para espanol, marke numero... _ ’ you  **pendejo** son of bitch!”

I cackled and cleared the gag message as he thumped my shoulder. I then read off the logs. “Okay, looks like the reactor auto-scrammed when the gun blew. If I’m reading this right, the space frame was torqued in the blast. We’re not moving this pig without a tug. She’s carrying...” I whistled in appreciation, “2 tons of Eezo for core operation, 32 tons of Deuterium for the reactors and 105 Kg of antimatter.”

Juan chuckled at that. “That alone could almost make the trip worth it. One second.” He typed for a few seconds. The ship was rocked with a series of muted thumps. “Marvin, this is LT. I just jettisoned the ships fuel stores. Send the drone over to pick it up. We’re moving to CIC.”

<Copy LT.>

He shouldered his sub-gun. “Come on  **pendejo** , let’s keep going.”

We were halfway to CIC when one of the drones detected movement before going dark. I glanced at Juan. “Looks like we have survivors. One deck below, port side.”

Juan thought for a second. “Note it, but keep moving. Marvin, we have movement. Standby.” Hans and Frans remained silent, though they pinged their receipt.

We came to a  **T** junction just before the CIC when Juan tapped me. I paused and looked where he was pointing and saw a small piece of metal sitting at an angle. A dim red light blinked from underneath. I noted the location and thought it would have caught anyone just before they got to the  **T** junction, or just as they pulled back from it. It didn’t look like there was a good line of sight on it from either leg of the  **T** . He gave me a very basic signal, one we had drilled: cover me while I work. I took up position in the middle of the corridor. It offered no cover, but gave me the best sightlines available. 

It took him slightly more than a minute to disarm the mine. I was about to advance around the corner when he shook his head and made a few gestures at the bomb, the plate, and the hallway. It took a moment to figure out what he wanted, which seemed to be to fashion the plate into a tube to direct the bombs blast down the  **T** in both directions. My Omni-tool made short work of the task, and two minutes later we had a double ended shotgun with flechettes. He rigged his own Omni as a remote trigger, then rolled the tube down the hall into the junction. There was a curious noise just before he detonated it.

Our own helmets blocked out the worst of the concussion and we rounded the corner, sweeping fire for three seconds straight. Once we stopped we ducked back behind the  **T** and waited. After ten seconds with no sound we rounded the corner again to survey the area. There were two more bodies. The first was another Salarian, but it took me a moment to reconcile the tattered, faintly glowing purple cloth strewn about as having been a Hanar. “Alright, this is officially not pirates.”

Juan nodded but didn’t say anything, simply tapping my shoulder and gesturing forward. We finally arrived at the sealed double door to the CIC. The control panel had been smashed, with exposed wiring sticking out. I signalled Juan to watch over me and secured my gun. I connected my Omni to the wrecked controls and built up a bypass with two buttons. I pantomimed to Juan that one would open the door a little, the other a lot. He got behind the bulkhead with his finger over the ‘little’ button and waited. I prepared my cannon and nodded.

When the doors opened slightly, I swept fire back and forth. Juan opened the door the rest of the way and stepped in. We were both peppered with fire as we lurched back into cover. A grenade clattered out, which Juan kicked back in. We stepped back into the doorway after the grenade went off. Two Turians were bleeding out on Juan’s side of the room, but we were both fired on from mine. I swept fire across the shooters, causing another Turian and an Asari to duck behind consoles. We retreated back out when a warp was launched my way.

“I  _ know _ I hit both of them! That is not, pirate, armor!” 

“Go AP!” Juan shouted. I disabled the laser systems and readied the gun to fire as a light-speed charged particle cannon. He ducked in to fire a short burst to keep the last two under cover while I stepped around. I then fired a shot into the console.

Contrary to popular culture, charged particles and plasma are not slow moving blobs you can track with the naked eye. They aren’t even something you should  _ look at _ with the naked eye. It is something anyone from a terrestrial world is familiar with. A purple-white flash connected my gun to the console for an instant before it vomited sparks and fire everywhere. The Turian lept one way, gun in hand, while the Asari jumped the other, landing on her belly. I tracked and shot the Turian first. The arc of light-speed electrons overwhelmed the shield of his armor before scorching a small hole clean through him. The Asari was just standing up and readying a biotic attack of some sort when I turned and fired on her.

In our primer on Eezo, we were informed it was unwise to ever,  _ ever _ discharge a charged particle beam into anything with more than .5% Eezo by volume. I found out that Asari are greater than .5% Eezo by volume. She shrieked for a split second as the lightning bolt charged every Eezo node in her body. The result was very messy.

I was startled out of my daze by a short burst of weapons fire. I saw Juan standing in the doorway, his weapon at the ready. The Turian who had apparently been less dead than I thought was sprawled on the floor between us. “Hiram, report!”

“I’m good.” I swept the room one more time. “Room secure.” He stepped in put a hand on my shoulder. I looked him in the eyes. “I’ll be fine once we get back on the ‘Marvin’.”

We swept the computers only to find they had been wiped, either before we had boarded, or sometime after. Noone was carrying an Omni-tool. There was an armory report on a damaged console stating there were twenty Disruptor Torpedoes in the magazine.

I glanced at Juan over my shoulder. “Do we salvage the data core and see what Shultz’s people can make of it, or go for the torpedoes?”

Juan was looking at an evacuation plan map on the bridge wall. “Data Center is right next to the magazine, so we take both. We jettison all but two missiles, and use those two as a scuttling charge.”

I stepped away from the console. “Right. You get the data core, I’ll rig the bomb.”

He sputtered for a moment, then threw a bit of something at me (which I hoped wasn’t Asari). “LT to Marvin; we’re about done here. Have the drone ready to collect a dozen and a half torpedoes. We’ll be close behind.” 

<Good to hear from you. The light show was a little concerning. Something broke away from the ship during the ruckus. Delphi tracked as it went for the relay. Drone’s on it’s way now.>

There were no more complications, though it did take us another two hours to finish up. Juan came over and grabbed one of the data cores in a rush. “Come on  **pendejo** , we’ve got five minutes until this place blows!”

“What?!”

“Bwahahahahahah!” I could only glare, since my arms were full. “Relax, I set it on a two hour timer. Let’s get out of here.”

Once we arrived safely back on the ‘Marvin’, we stuck around long enough to watch the mystery frigate go up. The blast shredded the ship, and the gravity wave sent the wreckage and the trash wheel falling into the gas giant.

We then turned for home, our holds filled with war supplies, but our minds filled with questions: who was looking for us, and what did they intended to do if we were ever caught?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ThePilotArchangel has extended the invitation to any fans of his story to participate. Simply go to his page on FF.net https://www.fanfiction.net/u/8343608/ThePilotArchangel and message him


	4. Sense and Sense of Duty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nomad was not the first Traveler to be dumped into this Alternate Mass Effect Universe. And he most certainly will not be the last; these are the stories and adventures of the future and current members of the Systems Alliance Group for Specialized Tactics (GST).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The following stories are written as authorized expansions on ThePilotArchangel's "A Ghost and a Specter" story. This particular chapter is part of a series written by myself.

Our trip back to the ‘Spirit’ (by way of Beta Site to drop off the data cores and torpedoes) took a full week. It was a week we spent mulling over the events in George, and the actions we’d had to take. The excitement had certainly curbed Frans’ lust for adventure. Out of all of us, only Juan had any prior experience in direct lethal combat. It helped that Hans had been studying to become a licensed therapist, though he had only finished two years of the program before  _ Traveling _ with his brother. Still, every little bit helped. 

Our arrival at the ‘Spirit’ was met with some fanfare from the service and duty crews. The windfall of fuel we had recovered did indeed almost make up for the effort of the trip. The other thing waiting for us on arrival were debrief teams from Shultz’s Intelligence division. Every scrap of recorded information was scooped up and spirited away, while we were hustled off to separate rooms and interrogated for at least two hours on  _ everything  _ we had done and seen. I understood the need, but felt no less violated.

Once released for twelve hours crew rest, I went straight to Capt. Dube’s office. Unfortunately, he was in something of a backlog. His Chaplain’s Assistant put me down for noon the next day, and I headed off to my go-to stress relief: the tool shop.

I had found that, with the assistance of VI’s and the availability of Omni-fabrication tech, the sky was the limit when it comes to the things you could make. Obviously, Eezo needed to be strictly rationed, but the good Dr. Helix and company had made tremendous strides in studying Mass Effect principles and how they relate to broader theories like General and Special Relativity. The upshot was that we now knew how to make low intensity gravity wave generators. Not enough for the full mass altering properties of Eezo, but enough for Skell Tech to look into propulsion options for unmanned systems, and alternate designs for Nuclear Laser drives.

I sat at a terminal in the ‘playpen’: an area where the crew could ‘play’ with design ideas, fabricate and test them in a controlled environment, then feed their creations back into the Omni-fabricator to be recycled. I wanted to try some redesigns of my cannon. I had spent the entire flight from Beta Site seeing the Asari’s face as she died. I’d intended the weapon to be a proof of concept and a ‘step up’ from ME based kinetic weapons. Instead, I’d created a war crime. I  _ needed _ to redesign the gun, if only so I wouldn’t hesitate to use it when my team needed me.

I saw a report on Helix’s team’s initial research into G-wave generation, and one of the proposed methods sparked an idea: particle beams and plasma windows. I thought it might work to create a distinct plasma bolt, and still keep the ability to create an X-Ray laser. I’ll admit, the idea was somewhat inspired by “Babylon 5” and “The Dirty Pair”; so sue me. After several hours of tinkering and (heavily VI assisted) math, I had two designs: one for my canon, and one to replace my crappy Batarian pocket pistol. I set the fabricator to make the second, as well as enough ‘ammunition’ to provide a meaningful test.

What I ended up making was the size of a Carnifex. I’d opted for somewhat sleeker lines, and had integrated an IR converter to help power the gun by using its waste heat. It wouldn’t generate a Laser, but as a pure pulsed plasma weapon (I don’t dare call it a Z-pinch plasma weapon; Citadel types freak out at the idea of a Fusion pistol) it would be quite effective. I took my new idea to the range, and took my first shot.

I went back to the terminal and fabricated a wrist brace, UV polarized safety glasses and full ear muffs instead of ear plugs. I popped some Ibuprofen for the swelling and went back for shot number two. Once I was better prepared, I started having a little more fun. Part of the benefit of the range was that it used Omni-Fabricators to manufacture physical targets up to 10cm thick in paper, cardboard, high-impact thermo-plastic, Lunarcrete or even low grade steel. As expected, the bolts made short work of everything except the Lunarcrete and steel. With the last two, I only needed two shots to shatter the crete or melt through the steel at full thickness.

By that point, I was feeling pretty smug; both for the effectiveness of the design and the crowd I was attracting. People started cheering and asking if they could try the gun out. I got a nod from the range Safety Officer, and handed the pistol off. It was after half an hour of passing the gun when it landed in the hands of one of the engine-room mechanics.

They were laughing up a storm as they handed the gun back to me. “Yeah, baby! You gonna pop some heads with this!” The gun was in the recycler ten seconds later. I only stopped long enough to erase the design before heading to my billet.

...

I only got four hours sleep before the nightmare woke me. I’m thankful the individual cots had been designed as independent lifeboats. The isolation could do wonders to help lull you to sleep, and it meant you didn’t disturb anyone when you woke up screaming. I knew I wasn’t getting back to sleep, and I didn’t want to go back to the Playpen any time soon, so I headed for the galley.

I hadn’t thought about it before, but the Spirit felt vast and empty. I understood why, logically: the ship was supposed to support a crew of close to 500, with an attached Aerospace Wing and Combined Arms Brigade Combat team. She was meant to hold close to 6000 souls. Meanwhile there were less than a third as many known  _ Travelers _ , with less than half of them on the ship at any time. Still, when walking through empty corridors after a nightmare, the facts were less than comforting.

The mid-ship galley was serving the midnight shift, so the cavernous hall was sparsely populated, but not empty. I opted for military comfort food: SOS. Wandering back to the dining area, I saw my case officer hunched over her own tray.

I smiled and walked over. “ _ Assalamu, Bene Said. _ ”

She jerked and looked at me with wide eyes. “Oh!  _ Assalamu _ Hiram.” She seemed to sag in relief, then gestured to the seat across from her. “There’s no Snake-Pit here. Care to join me?” She looked as haggard as I felt. She took note of my choice of meal. “You know that stuff will kill you?”

I snorted. “If I live long enough for  _ this _ ,” I gestured to my meal, “to be a threat to my health, I’ll consider myself to have lived a charmed life.” She seemed to relax at the familiarity. “I hope you don’t mind, but you look like hell. Are you okay?”

She tensed up slightly, but seemed to come to a personal decision. “No, not really. You and the rest of Jawa were away at THX--”

“We’re calling it George.”

She gaped at that. “What? Why George?”

“In honor of George Lucas, and because it’s a big orange monster.” She snorted a laugh at that. “Hans and Frans were going to see if they could officially have it renamed.” That earned a full laugh.

Her mirth subsided, but she seemed less stressed. “George then. It’s not the only monster from our past.” She spun a tablet for me to read a news headline:  _ Terra Nova Space Elevator ground breaking ceremony bombed, Eayan Allah claims responsibility! _ “Onehundred and fifty years on, and this is all my culture is remembered for: small minded, biggoted hate mongering!

“Don’t they know what’s at stake? Why can’t they see past this, this horrific dogma?! They are destroying themselves and will take everyone down with them!” She slumped over her tray and wept.

I reached across and took one of her hands and tried to think of what to say, what gesture would make it better, but nothing seemed right. How do you comfort someone who was this attacked? When the very soul of their culture...

“We have souls.” She looked at me quizzically. “Our being here is almost proof positive that we have souls, and that there  _ is _ a higher power; one that can pass judgement.”

She sniffled and wiped her eyes. “Yes, but they think they are  _ doing _ that higher powers work.”

“And we know they aren’t, or we wouldn’t have been sent here!” I squeezed her hand. “We’re here, in this place and at this time to fight  _ monsters _ ! The Reapers are definitely Priority One, but this,” I glanced at the news report, “ _ EA _ , is absolutely a threat, and one I have no doubt we’ll be going after.” I let her hand go and scooped up a fork-full of SOS and raised it in a salute. “And I’m equally sure you’ll be lecturing me about the health risks of hashbrowns and sawmill gravy long after they’re gone to their final judgement.”

She gave a wane smile and returned the salute. We spent the rest of the meal in companionable silence.

...

The normal Post Mission Brief was delayed for unspecified reasons, so I took the time to get my head together. I and the rest of Jawa caught a movie in the ship’s theater (I think it was “Fast and Furious #118, but I could be wrong) which the entire audience razzed mercilessly. It devolved into a ‘Rocky Horror Picture Show’ by the end. I also made my appointment with Capt. Dube, after which I returned to the Playpen to work out the bugs in my ‘Atomic Hand-Canon’. I registered that and my revamped armature gun design with the armory for review and production when available.

Two days later, every field team on the ‘Spirit’, whether Ghost Fire Team or Logistical Retrieval Team was in the ships auditorium. The Spirit’s Captain, a Svenska Marinen Lt. Cmdr. who went by Maureen Fernan, was standing on the stage next to the head of GST Intelligence, Ghost Schultz. Seeing one of the elusive founding cadre (outside of Dr. Helix’s periodic visits) was a rarity and raised no small amount of concern. 

Capt. Fernan stepped forward. “Ladies, gentlemen and others, at ease. Take your seats.” There was a general shuffle. “First order of business, you are all, officially, out of uniform.” There were some chuckles and confused looks. “The GST is moving to a more formal status. As such, a uniform has been developed for on-duty and deployed personnel. Obviously this does not apply to Ghost and Retrieval Teams on special assignment, but for all other purposes, the new uniform is the standard for all personnel on board when on duty.” Images of the new uniforms were projected as a hologram behind her. “Supply will be issuing these new uniforms over the next month. Don’t complain about fit until all uniforms are issued, or you will receive this.” A hideous outfit in pink, covered in kittens, bunnies and sunflowers appeared, earning a round of genuine laughter. 

She smiled at the crowd, then turned more serious. “Next, we will receive a security report from the head of GST Intelligence. Herr Schultz?” She motioned to the founding Ghost and stepped aside.

Schultz stood motionless for a moment. “Some of you have probably heard the rumors, though some have not.” He clicked a button on the podium, bringing up the article I had read with Said. “Those rumors are true, though I sorely wish otherwise. The  _ Eayan Allah _ is a very real threat, both to the Systems Alliance, and the galaxy as a whole. If you have family, friends or contacts, make sure they are aware of the severity of this threat.

“Some of you have lived your whole lives under the shadow of religious extremism. Many of you were  _ traveled  _ here because of it. I am here to inform you that while this organization’s prime mandate remains the opposition and eventual defeat of the Reaper threat, we will not leave this foe unchecked. 

“At present we are only in the intelligence stage of operations. All deployed teams will report any intelligence regarding  _ EA _ activity to your Case Officers at the earliest possible time. This is at present, a solely human threat, but we all know how quickly organizations like this can shift, so be aware of your surroundings and watch each other out there.

“Finally,” I sat upright as he brought up a hologram of the frigate and junk ring from George, “one of our retrieval teams encountered a trap in the, ‘George’ system?” All of Jawa chuckled. “Anyway, they were not only successful in thwarting the ambush through novel thinking and swift action; they also managed to secure substantial intelligence and resource assets. I’d like to take a moment to recognize their accomplishments. Retrieval Team Jawa, stand and be recognized.” 

We did as asked and endured the clapping. Juan tipped his head back. “What can Brown do for you,  **Ese** ?” The hall erupted in laughter as we sat back down.

Schultz waited for the din to die down. “As I said, there was a substantial windfall of intelligence in what they gathered. Fact one: the Eezo retrieved was of a purity reserved exclusively for Asari Republic Commando units. Fact two: the torpedoes carried by the ship were state of the art Turian weapons that, to the best of my knowledge, have not been reported lost or stolen.” The assembly shifted uncomfortably in their seats. “Fact three: the data cores they retrieved, while scrubbed clean of information, were of a Salarian design we have never encountered and are suspected to be STG exclusive assets. We believe this represents a concerted, state level effort to trap either ourselves, or EA Assets. At this time we don’t know which.” This caused the crowd to begin yelling in alarm.

“Room: Aten-Hut!” We all snapped to attention and fell silent at Maureen’s order.

Schultz waited a moment before continuing. “Under my recommendation, all solo logistics operations are suspended until further notice. No Retrieval Team will deploy without a Ghost Fire Team for escort. I know this will strain our ops tempo, but we can take no further chances that this might be an operation by the Citadel Council, the Shadow Broker, or worse Specter Saren Arturius or the Collectors.”

The hall was deathly still as we all processed what had been said. “That said, we will not be held hostage to fear. We are Ghosts;  _ we _ are what is feared in the darkness!”

Everyone in the auditorium gave a thunderous “Oorah!”

Schultz stepped back and Maureen took his place. “All Team Case Officers will report to Intell for tasking schedules. Operation Teams will stand down for twelve hours, then report to your Case Officers for assignments. Dismissed!”

...

The next twelve hours felt surreal. With nearly every active member of the GST onboard, the ship felt livelier than it had since I was first brought on board. Everyone felt tense, but in a positive way. We were now focused; we had a current objective that, while still quite vague, was more comprehensible than ‘stopping the Reaper threat’. I hadn’t realized how adrift we had all felt until that moment.

The various teams dealt with the waiting in their own ways, and we were no different. Juan joined in an impromptu Soccer competition being held in one of the unused vehicle storage bays. Hans and Frans alternated between the gym and the movie theater. I headed back to the Playpen for some pure creative indulgence.

I had just sat at one of the terminals when I heard a distinctive, and very familiar -BLAM-. I headed over to the range and saw a crowd had formed around one of the Ghosts. There was a short burst of rifle fire, followed by a plasma bolt. When she stepped back grinning like a madwoman, I saw she had a G-36 with what appeared to be a high tech underslung grenade launcher. I grinned and went back to work; some of the techies had mentioned starting a fencing club. I wanted to practice with the longsword some  _ before _ I got the damn-fool idea in my head to try and make a longsword themed Omni-blade.

A few hours and several sore muscles later I crashed into a dreamless sleep. I met up with the rest of Jawa for chow.

“It’s fucking bullshit is what it is!” Juan argued around his eggs. “Gordon played pro for Arsenault before joining the SAS. He should have been Reffing, not playing.”

Frans grinned around a bagel. “Bruh, just let it go. You need to loosen up and  _ get some _ like I’m gonna!” Hans snorted. “Dude, she was totally into--”

<Fire team Ezio, report to Personnel for immediate tasking. Fire team Ezio, report to Personnel for immediate tasking. Retrieval Team Jawa, report to Personnel for immediate tasking. Retrieval Team Jawa, report to Personnel for immediate tasking.>

I shoveled my faux bacon and eggs into my mouth and washed it down with the rest of my coffee. “Sorry, no rematches or hot dates tonight.” Hans just laughed at his brother’s stricken look. 

We arrived in the Personnel Center briefing room to find the Ghosts who had gotten me off of Illium, plus one waiting.

“ **_Bonjour mon amis_ ** !” Ezio stood and thrust a hand out and shook everyone's hands. “I am Ezio,  **_Groupe d'intervention de la Gendarmerie nationale_ ** . This is Min-ji, ROK Marines, and Rambro, South African Recces.” He was as effervescent as always, while Min-ji and Rambro waved diffidently. Ezio pointed to the fourth. “And this is our newest member.” 

A stocky Inuit woman stood up and nodded. “Former SeaBees. Call me Battery.”

I nodded in turn. “Hiram, former Air Force Crash Recovery. This is our team lead Lt. Juan, Mexico City Police EOD, Hans and Frans, Fire Jumpers from Pike’s Peak Station.”

Ezio beamed as he always seemed to, but the introductions got raised eyebrows from the rest of his team. While the general opinion among the GST was ‘One Team, One Fight’, there was still some rivalry between the Ghost and Retrieval teams. Listing our qualifications had become a way to establish our bonafides when not actually in the field.

Said cleared her throat. “Now that we’re all friends, let’s begin.” She brought up a hologram of the frigate from George. “We have determined from your logs that it was a Turian Hierax class shuttle that launched during your search of the frigate.” The image zoomed in to show a clearer picture of the distinctive shape of a Turian designed craft. “We have also managed to extrapolate it’s course based on your Delphi probe data. We believe the ship would only have had range for two relay jumps at most, and that includes the George relay. The next system only has one relay, so we know which system they would have arrived in. A reconnaissance probe of the moon orbiting NR-22825’s fifth planet shows signs that something soft landed in the equatorial habitable band due west of this glacial range.”

She shut the hologram off and stared at our respective teams. “I know it’s been more than a week, but there’s been no observable activity in the system, so it’s possible our runner is still there. However there has been a Quarian ship nosing about nearby. We’re currently neutral with the Migrant fleet; an unknown quantity. We aren’t in a position to ask for the ship. We need you to retrieve it, any intelligence it may carry, and it’s pilot if possible. Marvin has your course programmed in, and all salvage gear is loaded on. Kit up and move out.”

We all saluted sharply and headed out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ThePilotArchangel has extended the invitation to any fans of his story to participate. Simply go to his page on FF.net https://www.fanfiction.net/u/8343608/ThePilotArchangel and message him


	5. Fly me to the moons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nomad was not the first Traveler to be dumped into this Alternate Mass Effect Universe. And he most certainly will not be the last; these are the stories and adventures of the future and current members of the Systems Alliance Group for Specialized Tactics (GST).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The following stories are written as authorized expansions on ThePilotArchangel's "A Ghost and a Specter" story. This particular chapter is part of a series written by myself.

Battery looked around the Marvin’s interior as we secured everyone’s gear. “I was really hoping to get one of the Longswords.”

Frans paused to snort a laugh. “Yeah? Well I was hoping to be balls-deep tonight--”

Hans dope slapped his brother, setting him to spin. “Not cool Bruh!” 

Battery chuckled. “He’s not the only one.” Everyone paused and looked at her. “What? Because I’m a woman, I’m not allowed to have a libido? Fuck that and fuck you,” she pointed at Hans, “if your ‘bro’ joins in.” The brothers sputtered while the rest of us laughed and locked our gear down.

Juan and Ezio had moved up the boom to the sleeping cabins while the brothers were trying to figure out if Battery was serious or not. I looked at Min-ji and Rambro. “I need to see about our  _ Hopper _ salvage shuttle. Want the Nickel-tour?” They followed me to the airlock and we suited up for a space walk. We climbed to the module docks where our Delphi probe, landing craft and the  _ Hopper  _ were attached. It was an ungainly thing; a conical control module reminiscent of a Mercury Space Capsule sat atop a squat cylinder that housed the unit’s small industrial ME core and hoisting cables. Four articulated, latticed booms were arranged equilaterally around the base, each with a Nuclear Lightbulb engine and clawed landing strut on the end. All in all, it looked like a steampunk spider had latched onto our ship.

Rambro scowled at the monstrosity. “What a  _ goffel _ ! We’re not riding that down are we?”

I glanced up from my checks of the connections. “No, we’ll be taking the Pinnace over there.” I pointed to the white cone just forward of the spin arms. I saw the look Rambro and Min-ji passed each other. “It’ll carry 10 without a problem, so the six of us should be fine.” 

“Six?” Min asked as we headed back to the airlock.

I nodded, then realized they couldn’t see it in the bulky EVA suit and turned around. “Frans is the better pilot, but Hans has more medical training so he’s bringing the  _ Hopper  _ while Frans minds the Marvin. The rest of us are coming down on the Pinnace. Juan, Hans and I will be trying to salvage the shuttle. I imagine your team has its own orders and I won’t pry.” We cycled through the airlock and unsuited. “Whatever your job out there is, if you happen to see me running, it means something’s chasing me. Please kill it.”

Rambro barked out a laugh while Min-ji smirked at me. “ **_Gwaenchanh-a._ ** ”

...

The Star-Bug’s cramped nature was exacerbated by the additional four bodies, but our target was less than two days travel so we all coped. We dropped our Delphi off as usual and moved into orbit of the target moon. Our reports on it didn’t do the harsh environment any justice as we all crammed into the CM to get our first glimpse. Ezio began poetically intoning.

I glanced over. “I didn’t catch any of that except  _ Malbolge _ and  _ Cocytus. _ ”

Most of the teams looked at us oddly until Rambro spoke up. “The Eighth and Ninth Circles of Hell, according to Dante.”

Juan adjusted the video feed to focus on a spot near the equatorial mountains and zoomed in on a black and silver triangular shape. “Well Ezio gets to name this one when we get back. Let’s suit up and get what we came for people, before **El Dioblo** comes for his due.” 

Juan and I, as well as Fire Team Ezio were the first to descend. We would be evaluating the safety of the shuttle and the site itself before Hans came down in the Hopper. This was the first time I had been on a natural celestial body since leaving Illium. We landed a kilometer from the crash site in the lee of a large projection of ice. Mine and Juan’s suits were a great contrast to those of the Ghosts who favored sleek lines and maneuverability over sturdy utility; though I imagined either of our suits could support the Full Ghost Team's weight if needed. 

The atmosphere at the equator was only slightly thicker than at the top of Mt. Everest, so we kept our suits sealed as we trudged into the bleak, icy terrain. Though there were signs of drifts, there was no wind to speak of. The gouge left by the shuttle was only slightly filled in, so we thought it was a good sign for the weather. The Ghosts immediately cloaked and moved on, while Juan and I trudged towards the crash.

Both Juan and I were running continuous scans for radiation, fuel leaks and Eezo. We were a hundred meters from the wreck when the muffled shot rang out, kicking up a puff of ice in front of us. We both bounded over the ridge of the gouge and hunkered down. Juan threw a handful of Micro-drones. They showed a pair of almost gaunt humanoids in form fitting suits with single piece face-plates by an open hatch on the shuttle’s port side. One pointed at the drone swarm and did something with their Omni-tool before the feed went dead.

Ezio cut his link before they could back-hack into his suit. “Ezio, this is Juan. Looks like we have a couple of Quarians at the crash site. We’ll see if we can get them out ourselves, but be ready to intervene. Out.”

I looked over the ridge with the site on my canon. “How do you intend to do that  **El Jefe** ?”

“Creatively. Hans? Can you hear me?”

<Yep. Is my landing zone safe?>

“Not yet, but it will be once you touch down. Set down just to the left of the crash; we’ll work on proper placement later.” He rolled over and looked at the shuttle.

I shook my head. “He’s gonna be pissed about you lying to him like that.”

“I didn’t lie; the site will be safe once he lands. Nobody in their right mind would attack the Hopper with anything less than a Bazooka.”

“Well let’s hope our friends don’t have one.” I switched my suits loud-speaker on at max volume. “Kids, I don’t know if you can understand me but you might want to get under cover right about now.”

I could see them looking our way and gesticulating until the sound of the Hopper’s Nuclear Ramjets drew their eyes up. Even at this distance I could see the confusion and fear in their body language. One hauled the other inside and the hatch slid mostly shut. After that, we saw nothing except the steam and lightning kicked up by Hans’ landing.

Juan and I ran up to the shuttle. “Hans, stay in the Hopper for the moment.”

<What’s going on guys?>

“Just stay put.” Juan knocked on the hatch. “Alright  **nińas,** playtime’s over; time to come out.”

I retracted the canon and kept Juan covered with my equally new pistol. I had no desire to hurt these two, but they had already shot at us once. A few seconds later, the hatch creaked open and two quarians, one male and one female, stepped out with their hands raised. They were shivering, but I couldn’t tell if that was from exposure or fear.

<Dude! You said the site was secure!>

“I said it would be once you touched down. You’re here, it’s secure. Let’s figure this out.” He must have noticed a heat ripple on the roof of the shuttle. “Anything your team need from the shuttle?”

Battery’s voice sounded from the empty space. “We saw tracks before you erased them, but we’ve got the trail.” The kids flinched and bumped into Juan and I when the Ghost pulled her hood back, revealing a death-mask floating in air. “It leads into the mountains. Min and I are staying here on overwatch while the boys track our pilot.” Juan nodded and we shuffled the two Quarians back inside the shuttle as Battery resumed her post.

Once inside, we tried to shut the cabin door but it jammed as it had earlier. There was drift ice in the cabin from Hans’ landing. I was looking over it as Juan was sitting the two kids down to talk. “Hey Lt.? If you think you’re good, I want to see if this is going to be a major issue. I’m gonna have Hans lift this bird off the ground; when I give the signal, try to extend the landing gear. Hopefully the hull is just under stress, and not twisted.”

He looked at me, then the two across from him. “Alright, just warn the Ghosts before you do anything.”

“What? I’m not allowed to surprise the faceless killing machines we brought with us” I chuckled at the reactions of the Quarians, but then that had been part of the point of saying that. I saluted and headed outside and looked at the shuttle’s roof. “Ladies, you might want to find a different perch. Hans is about to mount this bird so we can move it.” Their only response was a rippling effect as they moved away. I tried not to flinch when one of them tapped me on the shoulder to let me know they were clear, I really did.

I signalled Hans, and he walked the Hopper over the fallen shuttle. Despite its ungainly appearance the Hopper was a very nimble craft, which made it all the more disturbing to watch. Once he was in position, I attached the hoisting cables to what I assumed were major structural members. Once I was certain the ship was secure for the lift, I hopped down and rapped on the shuttle door. “Take a seat in the middle; we’re starting the lift now.”

<We’re all set. Go ahead>

Rather than have Hans translate my orders into actions, I remotely operated the hoists one at a time to lift the ship to a level position, then had Hans hoist all the cables at once. It took 30 minutes, but the shuttle was finally a good two meters off the ground. “Alright, extend the gear.”

It was a testament to Turian engineering that, despite the crash, the landing gear all extended smoothly and locked into place. Hans slowly lowered the craft to the ground. As soon as all the cables were slack, the hatch shut and locked automatically. Juan cycled it a few more times just to be sure, but it appeared the shuttle was intact.

<Jawa, Ezio, this is Marvin; Delphi just picked up a contact coming through the relay! ETA is 10 minutes!>

The hatch slid open. Juan stepped out with the two Quarians following close behind. “The kids say it isn’t theirs; they're supposed to fix the ship and bring it back as their Pilgrimage Offering.”

I looked at Juan. “Maybe they’re here for the wayward pilot?”

Juan looked skyward for a moment. “Whoever they are, I don’t want them seeing us. Hans?”

<I could get into space, but not into a proper docking orbit before then.>

Juan thumped his fist on the shuttle. “Alright. Frans, take Marvin to the farside from where they’ll exit and keep radio silent. We’ll relay through Delphi when it’s clear. Hans, walk the Hopper over to our casule and be ready to launch for survival. Hiram, me and the  **nińas** will move to that ice out cropping due north. Ezio, you found our runner yet?”

Ezio’s reply was almost drowned out by the Hopper scuttling away. < **_Non, mon ami_ ** . We did find a campsite with used medical supplies, but the trail goes cold on an ice shelf. We’re on our way back. ETA, 12 minutes.>

There was a short exchange between the Quarians and Juan as we moved. “The  **nińas** say they can remotely activate the K-Barriers on the shuttle if you need more substantial cover.”

_ < _ **_Merci._ ** >

Once under cover of the ice outcropping, we waited.

It felt like an hour of laying on an enormous shard of ice, but when I checked later it was only fifteen minutes. Finally I saw a faint fiery streak heading our way. It resolved into a squat 40 meter oval shaped ship with a boxy command module in the front, a cluster of engines in the back, and a gun turret on top. It’s other defining feature was its red and white paint job depicting a stylized human skull being punched. I knew I recognized the image, but I couldn’t place it.

“ **Mierde** !” 

I looked at Juan. “You know them?”

He nodded. “ **Si** . Blood Pack; they’re mercenaries, and  **loco hombres** at that.”

I watched as the ship settled on the ice near the crash. “You think they’re here for our runner?”

“If they are, it’s not to pick him up. Blood Pack doesn’t take jobs that don’t involve a body count.”

My heart leapt into my throat. I was not thrilled by the idea of another firefight, especially with the new cannon. I had only run a few tests in the playpen with the design. I had been genuinely surprised when the Armory had approved it for production. 

After a few seconds of St. Elmo’s fire, the side hatch on the ship opened and two squads of demonic looking creatures came out. It took me a moment to remember what they were called: Vorcha. They were followed by a pair of massive Krogans, one holding the leashes for four vicious looking animals. The bizarre fish/dog creatures immediately sniffed the air and started pulling their leads. Their handler simply yanked and smacked them into submission. Whatever orders they were yelling were lost to the thin atmosphere, but the entire troop advanced towards the shuttle as the ramp closed behind them.

I settled in again. “Now we wait for the ‘Ezio Show’ to begin.”

“I think it already has.” Juan nodded towards the ship. 

That’s when I saw flashes of light from the command module. A few moments later, a second hatch on the ship's belly opened up ‘Millenium Falcon’ style, complete with a heavy machinegun. The weapon immediately opened fire into the Blood Pack. The Vorcha and Varen scattered as the two Krogans were cut down. Most of the Vorcha managed to scurry over the shuttle for cover, while the four Varrens simply ran off.

I gently tapped the Quarian boy on the shoulder. He flinched and looked at me as I motioned to the shuttle. “You said you could turn that thing’s barriers on remotely, right?” 

“Y-yes?”

“What are you thinking,  **pendejo** ?”

I switched the canon to pulsed plasma mode. “I’m thinking we just got that junker off the ground, and I don’t want to wreck it again.”

Juan thought for a second, then nodded at the two. There was a faint screech of alarm from the Vorcha as the shuttle powered up. I stood up and opened fire. Perhaps it was a bit of a vanity project, but I was quite pleased with the rapid stream of vibrant purple bolts that sent the Vorcha scurrying in every direction. As soon as they were out of the shuttle’s cover, Ezio’s gunner opened up again and finished the creatures off.

The four of us slid off of the outcropping and headed over to the larger ship. Juan and I kept our weapons trained on the carnage in the event any of the vicious creatures were less dead than we thought. I noticed the Varrens had returned once the weapons fire had stopped. They seemed content to circle the battlefield and scavenge the Vorcha corpses. We were cautious when the Blood Pack ship’s ramp lowered, but it was Ezio’s team that sauntered out. 

Rambro looked around at the mess. “ **_Jislaaik_ ** ! These  **_skebenga_ ** gave us a time.” He kicked one of the downed Krogan. Said Krogan didn’t appreciate that, as much to our combined surprise he snatched Rambro off his feet and tried to use him as a shield while yelling.

- **CRACK** -

The first Krogan I’d ever faced hadn’t been impressed with the weapons I’d had on hand. This one was much more impressed, or would have been if his head had remained intact. Rambro looked back and forth between my smoking pistol and the now certifiably dead Krogan. “Thanks **_boet_**.” I nodded as Min-ji helped him to his feet. “Boss, I’m officially **_gavtol_** this hell hole. We’re leaving ** _now-now_** , yes?” 

“ **Tout à l'heure** .” He walked over to the pair of young Quarians. “I have a proposition for these two.”

While Ezio talked to the two Pilgrims, I headed over to the recently fallen Krogan. His Omni-tool had been damaged in the fighting and was flickering an image. I waved Min over. “You’re better with computers than me. Can you help me get this thing to stay on? I want to see what they were so keen on.” It took a little while, but we managed to salvage a text message and a picture. 

“Ezio/Lt.!” we both called out. When they both arrived, we showed them the message; a contract to assassinate an STG officer, with coordinates and a time table before the official retrieval team would arrive. “ _ Bring the Salarian’s head to the Starburst Lounge in Saefos Valley, Illium and ask for Drick. Full payment on confirmation of ID _ .” There was an attached hologram of a Salarian.

Min stood up and addressed everyone. “If we read this right, we have half an hour before the Citadel retrieval team arrives.”

Ezio snorted, then looked at the two kids. “Well? You have very little time. Which will it be: take the nearly empty shuttle that the Council is looking for, or the Batarian Corvette?”

In the end, it wasn’t even a choice. Ezio’s team collected the Omni-tools from the Blood Pack and copied all the data from the corvette’s computer, while Juan, Hans and I secured the shuttle for transport. Juan and I watched as Hans and the Hopper took off with the shuttle clinging to its belly. A rumble from behind us signalled the corvette’s departure. 

As our teams made our way to the Pinnace, I saw a glint from the ridge line to our east. “I wish Frans was over us so he could train the Big Eye on the ridge over there.”

Everyone looked over for a moment. Juan chuffed a laugh and kept on. “Not our problem any more,  **pendejo** . Let’s go home.” We were in orbit with five minutes to spare. It still took us an hour to dock and secure the shuttle, during which Ezio’s team managed the Marvin. A Salarian frigate arrived and remained in orbit for an hour. We made a single micro-jump to the farside of the Gas Giant which Ezio had named ‘Dante’. We waited there until the Salarians left. After that, we picked up the Delphi probe and cruised on to Beta Site for a  _ very _ long debrief.

...

Capt. Saelen Varn watched as the unidentified group left in stages: the Blood Pack transport, the odd, but quite efficient salvage transport, and finally the teardrop shuttle. Once he was certain they had truly left, he went back to the crash site. There was significant carnage; Five Krogan and twenty Vorcha in Blood Pack regalia were strewn about, with no signs that their adversaries had so much as scraped a knee. It was interesting to him that there seemed to be multiple methodologies at work, based on how various groups had been dealt with. Three of the Krogan were dead with almost surgical precision, while most had been subjected to support weapons fire. Of note were a group of Vorcha between an ice outcropping, and one of the Krogans: they had all come under fire from something with both significant heat and kinetic energy, if the trauma done to the Krogan’s crest plate was any indication.

Additionally was the almost kindly handling he’d seen of the Quarians. No species in known space, not even the humans with their penchant for softheartedness, would simply give the superior ship to a pair of juvenile Suit Rats; not without significant expectation of compensation, or a deep seated cultural reverence for the same. It painted a disturbing picture, one colored in the hues of Tikkun’s orange light. It was unheard of, but it fit the profile: unknown ship designs, exceptional intelligence and counterintelligence capabilities, highly advanced propulsion and weapons designs, and close association with Quarians. 

He looked up as an STG frigate descended on his position. He needed to report directly to the Council: if the Geth had come out of isolation in the Perseus Veil and were making overtures to the Quarian Migrant Fleet, then the entire galaxy was in grave peril. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter five is the last of the exclusively 'Hiram'-centric stories, however it is not the only story to be told. ThePilotArchangel has extended the invitation to any fans of his story to participate. Simply go to his page on FF.net https://www.fanfiction.net/u/8343608/ThePilotArchangel and message him.


	6. Nomad-Hiram Joint Mission (Part 1)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nomad was not the first Traveler to be dumped into this Alternate Mass Effect Universe. And he most certainly will not be the last; these are the stories and adventures of the future and current members of the Systems Alliance Group for Specialized Tactics (GST).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The following stories are written as authorized expansions on ThePilotArchangel's "A Ghost and a Specter" story. This particular chapter is part of a series co-written by myself and ThePilotArchangel.

Retrieval Team Jawa was between missions at the moment. The Brothers were in the gym trying to keep up with Battery, Jaun was in the 'football pitch' in vehicle bay seven, and I was down in the 'Playpen'. I'd had an idea on one of our last missions watching Juan use his Omni to fabricate a length of Det-cord. I wasn't sure about the rate or scalability of Omni-fabbed explosives, but something the size of an M-203 or AG-36 would make for a good start.  
After two hours I had a couple of those ideas narrowed down. With what I had on hand (namely my Batarian Back-alley special Omni-tool) and a 200ml canister of Omni-gel, I could get five grenades of any type I wanted, with a ROF of 12 shots a minute. Not really that impressive if I did say so myself. I headed back to the workbench to try a redesign, but found a Ghost standing at the terminal.  
Having lived on the Spirit of Fire for some months, I had learned how to tell a Ghost from everyone else. He wasn't wearing the ghost bandana or anything pretentious like that, but the man standing in front of me, all five and a half feet of him, was a Ghost. "Can I help you with something?"  
He looked up through wire-frame glasses, and I realized he wasn't a Ghost, but the Ghost. The founding seven were as close to living legends as we had. "Captain Lee!" I said in surprise; snapping a quick salute.  
There was a somewhat tired look on his face. "August, for now. I'm in need of a recovery specialist, and your name was at the top of Arc's short list." He turned and started walking away. "Come on; this is cutting into 'father-daughter time' with June."  
I closed my file, scrapped the prototype and rushed after the wiry man. We wound our way through the heart of the ship, until we reached the auxiliary Combat Information Center. August motioned for me to go first into an adjacent office, and then shut the door once he had followed me inside. The room was already occupied with three other people: Intelligence Director Schultz, Head of R&D Dr. Helix, and my own case officer Bene Said.  
Said gestured to one of the seats across from Shultz. "Assalamu, Hiram. Please have a seat."  
I sat down. "Assalamu." I noted that August didn't take a seat, though he didn't look like he was trying to be intimidating. He was just very fidgety. "I feel like this conversation is either going to be very good, or very bad."  
Director Schultz raised an eyebrow, then steepled his fingers. "This conversation? No. The mission it is about? Very much so. How much do you know about Illium?" he asked.  
I grimaced at the memories. "Not much, sir. I was only there for a few days." I looked absently at a wall. "They have good Wi-Fi, but it's loaded with state monitoring software. Crime is pretty bad and their police are more concerned with maintaining Illium's illusion of peace, rather than actually maintaining the peace." I looked around at the various people in the room with me. "It's basically a caricature of the 80's idea of a Corporate led State."  
August gave a snort. "You should go to work for their tourism bureau." He nodded to Schultz and Helix. The Doctor tapped a control on the conference table, and a hologram of a Quarian appeared. "A week ago, another Traveler showed up on our search program. She's on Illium, in Nos Astra like you were."  
Said leaned into the table. "We had scheduled a pickup when someone snatched her. She got a burst message out." The hologram shifted from the portrait to a video.  
"I don't have much time, but someone's coming after me! I don't know why! The only activity I've had was to confirm if the research I have has been continued or-" Crash!  
The video became a jumbled mess of Asari and Batarians in uniforms rushing in and seizing her before someone grabbed the recorder.  
Doctor Helix shut the hologram off. "The research she mentioned is in various fields of medicine; specifically, Bacteriophages and CRISPR technology. As with the papers you provided," Helix pointed at me, "we can find no other records of this research anywhere. This information is vital to combating numerous medical issues-"  
"To say nothing of the potential diplomatic boon it would offer in any dealings with the Migrant fleet." Schultz carried on. "We need this data. You are our resident Illium expert, and you have experience with this specific scenario: the salvaging of critical information."  
August must have seen my face twisting into the beginnings of a scowl. "We do want to rescue the 'Damsel-in-distress', and we will if we can but our priority is retrieving the data."  
I pursed my lips in thought. "I know someone in the city who might be able to provide limited help. If we can't extract our Traveler, she might be willing to house her until a proper recovery team can be sent."  
Schultz glanced at August before looking at me again. "Can this person be trusted?"  
I shrugged helplessly. "Last time I saw her I gave her a shotgun and she didn't shoot me in the face with it. Beyond that, vetting her would be your schtick. Her name's Kala D'Lano. She has, or had, an apartment in midtown west."  
August gave me an unreadable look. "Schultz's people will look into her. If she's not a security risk, we'll consider her as an option. Otherwise, we stick with the op as stated: go in, secure the data, attempt to extract out Traveler, and exfil."  
I wasn't happy with prioritizing information over a life, but I understood the calculus involved: one life wasn't worth the millions that could be potentially saved. "Alright. So, do I get a fancy do-rag?"  
"No." The three founders all said at once.  
Said rolled her eyes as I shrugged. "Eh, worth a shot." I looked at Said. "So, what do I tell-"  
She held up a hand. "I'll tell the rest of your team what they need to know. This isn't a deniable op or anything, but we are compartmentalizing it for the time being."  
Schultz stood, and so did the rest of us. "You'll be posing as Mercs for this one, so head down to the armory and get kitted out, then meet August in Hangar Five in two hours."

Since we were not going as a GST team persay, I wouldn't be taking my normal hazard suit. Instead, I was directed to the armory to be issued a GP Plate/Shield carrier and helmet set. I did manage to get authorization to bring my utility-Omni-tool and one of the Tech Armor projectors from my armor. I figured I could tinker with it and have it generate a sort of Pavise or Riot Shield if I needed to bunker down to work.  
I was also issued one of the now standard 12.7mm Mass Effected chem-rail assault rifles. I noted the underside universal mount. I waffled for a bit on what I wanted to attach until I decided to stick with what I was passably good at.  
It took some finagling, but I managed to convince the Armory Chief to let me at their omni-fabricator. In my time on the Fire, I had gained a bit of a reputation for outlandish and overpowered designs, so they were quite surprised when what I cranked out was an active-power cooling unit.  
"I'm the machine gunner for my team." I commented over my shoulder. "Last thing I want is this beast to overheat while I'm trying to lay suppressive fire." I then loaded up on C-Mag type drums of mixed SLAP-T and Raufoss. We were playing the part of Soldiers-of-Fortune going up against corporate security, so I felt a little better about potential cries of 'Crimes against Sapients'. As an afterthought, I loaded the armory program for the ammunition into my utili-omni and snatched up every Omni-gel canister they'd let me take.  
Once the armorers finally shooed me out, I headed down to the starboard hangar to meet up with August with fifteen minutes to spare. "Sorry, sorry! got sidetracked in the armory." He quirked an eye at me, and I chuckled. "Old military adage: fifteen minutes early is on-time, and-"  
"And on-time is late. You get all set up?"  
I kicked the wheeled crate behind me. "All set up for a Nos Astra vacation."  
He nodded just as FO Latoya came out of the hangar area. "Well, she's topped off and ready to go."  
We headed in to find what looked like any other Kodiak shuttle. "To quote a certain farm-boy we all know, 'what a piece of junk!' This is our ride to Illium? Cause the last time I made this trip in one of these it wasn't really a comfortable ride."  
"Comfort isn't the point, anonymity is." We both boarded the shuttle. "Everybody and their cousin uses these, so it shouldn't raise too many eyebrows for Schultz's contacts who will get us into Illium. By the way, he said his contacts should have a dossier on Kala by the time we get there. If she checks out, you'll make contact and try to make arrangements in the event we can't exfil our own."  
I grimaced but stowed my gear and settled in for the ride. I glanced over when I heard a child's voice. August was grinning sappily at a hologram of a little quarian. "I take it that's June?"  
He jerked slightly and looked ready to shut the hologram off, then simply nodded. His position on this mission was suddenly much clearer; this wasn't about humanitarian calculus or diplomatic advantage. This was about a father moving Heaven and Earth for his little girl. I nodded and focused on making sure my own kit was secure, giving him what privacy I could.

The ride to Illium was a day and a half, with each of us alternating shifts at the controls. By the end of the flight I was completely stir crazy, almost wishing we'd taken a Starbug here.  
Almost.  
August handled the traffic control officer and the landing. There was a ping from the com as we were preparing our gear to head out.  
"Looks like Kala checks out. I'll get us set up at our staging area while you make contact." He loaded the safe houses address onto my Omni. "You were also right about the Big-Brother state here. The Wi-fi is riddled with tracking software. We'll operate on time-tables until we're mission go."  
I nodded while putting a loose coat on. I was surprised when he handed me a large briefcase. I watched as he picked up another. He pressed a button with his thumb and the case fell away revealing what looked like an MP5 with an extra thick barrel. "You're gonna make me feel all self-conscious for not getting you anything."  
He snorted. "Help me get our girl's data out of here and I'll call it even."

I arrived at Kala's place without incident and with two hours until I needed to meet back up with August. I already had a full translation program loaded onto my old crappy Omni, but I left it off for the moment as I knocked on the door. There was some shuffling from inside, and the sound of something solid being moved before Kala's voice sounded from inside.  
It was terse and the meaning was clear: piss off.  
I took a deep breath. "Are you Kala D'Lano?" I intentionally mispronounced it. There was another rustling sound and the door shot open revealing a wide-eyed Kala, and the shotgun I had left with her. She swiftly hugged and dragged me into the apartment at which point she began punching me in the chest while yelling at me. It took me a few tries to get her to calm down enough to let me turn my omni back on. "Okay let's have that again, maybe with less punching this time."  
She stared for a moment then gave one more punch. "I've been worried sick!" She collapsed into a chair with her arms crossed over her chest. "You arrive out of the blue to give me my sister's pendant back, fight off those thugs, then get snatched up by those... who were they anyway? And why were the thugs chasing you? Or were they here for me? What's going on?!" By now she was thumping the armrests of her chair.  
"May I sit down and explain as much as I can?" She stared at me for a moment then huffed and motioned to a low couch. I sat down and faced her. "I'm pretty sure the thugs were after me; I got your sister's pendant, along with a few other items off of a pair of Batarians who tried to murder me in an alley the day I arrived."  
She grimaced "I think your translator is glitchy. The word is 'mug'."  
I shook my head. "It's working fine. I didn't have anything on me, visible or otherwise, to entice a mugging. They came into the alley for the sole purpose of killing me. I have a theory about why, but it's not one I'm willing to dig too deep into. The thugs from the hallway," I gestured to her apartment door, "were likely members of the same group. As for the two scary humans, well that's a different story and one I can't really get into. Suffice to say, I didn't intend to come to Illium, and they were here to get me out and to safety."  
"If they were getting you to safety, then why are you back?" She leaned forward in curiosity.  
"Because I'm not the only one. I'm here to try and help another get off world, or at least out of harm's way until we can get a proper extraction team to pull her out."  
"Her?" Kara arched an eyebrow at me.  
I debated teasing her, but didn't think now was the time. "Yes her." I pulled a still up on my Omni. "She's a Quarian. She gave her name as Ziva'Lorah."  
I saw a war of emotions cross Kara's face. I knew there was a chance she'd turn me away; anti-Quarian prejudice was a matter of course on Illium.  
Her expression softened. "Is she in some kind of trouble?"  
I sighed internally. "Yes. She's being held, in fact. We're trying to get her out but this is all off the cuff. We're at least going to break her out. That's where I was hoping you could come in."  
She gave me an arch look. "Oh I see how it is." The corners of her mouth twitched into a grin. "You disappear for months at a time, only to show up on my doorstep and ask me to take care of your other woman." She huffed in mock hurt.  
"I know, I'm the worst human friend you have." I placed my hand on my heart and hung my head.  
She snorted a laugh and stood up. "You're my only human friend, so I'll let it pass if..."  
I stood up as well. "If?"  
She crossed the distance between us and pulled me into a kiss. I was certainly caught off guard, and my mind began to wander. I wrangled it back on track just before she broke the kiss and looked at me oddly. She shook her head and straightened my mussed coat. "You sir, owe me a date. At the least, you owe me your name."  
I barked a laugh. "My name's Hiram Abiff, and it's a date the next time I'm not on Illium for work."  
I turned to head out to meet August when she stepped up beside me. "Hiram," I pause to look at her, "what's, 'the pass or token of the pass'?"  
I was brought up short by the old Masonic challenge phrase. I looked into her eyes and only saw confusion. I took a chance and gave her a peck on the lips. "If you don't know, then I'm afraid I can't say." I put my hat on as I stepped out of her apartment. "I promise to keep in touch more." With that, I headed out to whatever special hell August had in store for us.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ThePilotArchangel has extended the invitation to any fans of his story to participate. Simply go to his page on FF.net https://www.fanfiction.net/u/8343608/ThePilotArchangel and message him.


	7. Nomad-Hiram Join Mission (Part 2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nomad was not the first Traveler to be dumped into this Alternate Mass Effect Universe. And he most certainly will not be the last; these are the stories and adventures of the future and current members of the Systems Alliance Group for Specialized Tactics (GST).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The following stories are written as authorized expansions on ThePilotArchangel's "A Ghost and a Specter" story. This particular chapter is part of a series co-written by myself and ThePilotArchangel.

I wasn't a fan of Illium; the place reminded me of the very worst aspects of capitalism.

As Sir Winston Churchill said about democracy; "democracy is the worst form of government, except for all those others that have been tried." Capitalism fell within the same category for me. Everything else humanity, and by extension the rest of the galaxy, had tried flat out sucked in comparison.

I shifted my black poncho, sticking to the shadows as I made my way to our RV point.

Beyond a few curious looks, I didn't get much attention; which was how I liked things. My garb made me look like a mercenary with an archaic sense of style; which was kind of the whole point.

I ducked into an alleyway, quickly making sure that I was alone; before turning my attention to the nearby fire escape. It was kind of like what you would have found in inner cities like Baltimore or NYC.

It was modernized of course, with Eezo based barriers around it to prevent people from falling off; and electric locks on the ladders to prevent people from climbing them without authorization. Not a problem for me; I just tapped a few commands into my omnittool, and lowered the ladder halfway down.

It had an alarm that would automatically trigger if it was lowered more than two thirds of the way down; hence why I lowered it only half way. Still more than low enough for me to jump up and climb up the ladder.

Pulling out the Hi-Standard HDM .22 caliber pistol; I kept an eye on the windows to the apartments as I climbed up the ladder. I grimaced as I climber higher; both due to the height I was currently at, and due to the fact that I had forgotten to give Hiram his own Hi-Standard.

The Hi-Standard was so quiet; you would make more noise going "Pew-Pew" when you shot it.

And considering the fact that we needed to be discrete about this; there was no way that Hiram's modified MP5 would do the job in the close quarters we would be stuck in. I had chosen it as our main weapon because it would be perfect for outdoor environments.

When inside, the sound of gunshots were amplified; and suppressors only made a gunshot sound like a door slamming in comparison. The Hi-Standard was one of the few weapons that were truly silent.

I made my way to the top of the fire escape; keeping an eye on the door to the stairway that led inside. I quickly holstered my pistol and unslung my MP5; activating my camo unit.

I looked through the attached ACOG, and looked across the way to the local Police station where the Quarian Traveler was being held even as I pulled up the blueprints to the building; planning how we were going to get to the holding area in the basement.

Plus, I needed to think of the possibility that her omnitool had been placed somewhere other than the official evidence lockup in the basement.

"Nomad, I'm on my way up the fire escape; please don't shoot me sir." Hiram said over the radio.

"Copy that." I replied, not even turning to look; already seeing his blue dot moving towards me on my motion sensor. After a few minutes, I heard him crouch down next to me; activating his own cloak that had been given for this mission.

"What's the play sir?" He asked, sounding nervous.

I smiled slightly under my bandanna; but reached into my hidden back holster and pulled out the spare Hi-Standard I had been carrying. "Hi-Standard HDM .22 Caliber; One of the few guns ever made that is truly silent. The MP5's are for outdoor use, or when things get hot." I explained as I passed him five mags.

And in case you're wondering, yes; I was carrying five guns and the appropriate ammunition for them. I had my HDM on my hip, the MP5 in my hands, my .50 Cal Beowulf on my back; and my .50 Cal AE revolver on my shoulder holster.

I had learned to carry a lot of shit; never knew when I might need something.

Hiram took it and quickly checked to see if it was loaded; accepting the spare mags and attaching them to his utility belt. "Unshielded targets only; shielded targets you'll just be wasting your time. Use the MP5 only if we run into an armored or shielded hostile." I informed him.

The retrieval specialist nodded, looking uncertain; but I couldn't tell behind his oxygen mask.

"You make up with your girlfriend?" I asked as I sighted the fourth floor of the police building.

He chuckled in reply as he pulled out his own MP5; "Yeah, agreed to a date next time I have leave and I'm on Illium."

I just shook my head with a faint smirk; "Watch out, next thing you know you'll be the ships Al Bundy."

He looked at me as I chuckled, and just shook his head. "I've never played football, and I'm sure as shit never selling shoes."

"Alright, enough chit chat; we need to enter the building now, because they intend to transfer our VIP to the Police headquarters by tonight." I said, slipping into business mode.

Hiram shifted slightly, "Yes sir; how are we getting in?" He asked.

"We'll enter through the topmost floor, since it's the records storage and next to no one goes in there from what I've seen. They have two stairways, and two elevators; and one of the elevators is out of order, so we'll rappel down the shaft and enter the basement that way." I said, already standing up.

"Sir, what about any Asari cops that we encounter?" He asked.

"Expendable, all of them are corrupt and paid off by the business moguls here. We avoid any contact if necessary; but kill them if they spot us." I ordered sternly.

He nodded, "And the other prisoners?"

"Leave them, if all goes to plan; none of them will matter. After all, who will believe a bunch of convicts and criminals?"

I climbed up to the fourth floor, doing my best to not look down.

I could tell Hiram was doing the same due to the fact that he hadn't looked down once from the moment we had started climbing. The lack of the safety line probably had something to do with that; if we fell, nothing would catch us.

I reached the window, and kept low; breaking out the spy cable, using it to quickly sweep the room and make sure there wasn't anyone inside.

"Rookie!" I whisper-shouted.

"Yeah?"

"Run the jamming program."

He braced himself against the wall while he hugged the rope; and quickly inputted the commands for the jamming program. It was rather simplistic; it blocked all alarms and emergency signals throughout the building, and it set all the cameras that could see us on a repeating loop.

After I was sure that no one was in the alleyway below us, and that no one was in the room; I pulled out my Hi-Standard and shot the window, and then smashing the shattered glass out of the way with the butt of my pistol.

"Ok, I'm going in; don't get lonely out here alright?" I joked as I pulled myself inside.

I heard Hiram mumble something that I didn't catch; but otherwise he stayed quiet.

I pulled myself through the broken window, careful to avoid the particularly sharp bits of glass as I swept the room to make sure that I hadn't missed anything. A clunking noise behind me drew my attention, and I grimaced as I saw Hiram struggle to pull himself inside; the man swearing up a storm under his breath as he did so.

A far cry from my disciplined and utterly silent entrance only a few seconds beforehand.

Holstering my pistol and rushing over, I quickly grabbed his arms to give him some security; "Keep quiet you fucking spastic." I hissed as I pulled him in.

"Sorry sir, but I almost fell." He replied, panting slightly.

I drew my pistol again as he asked, "Sir, how did you break the window; more importantly, how did a fucking .22 punch through it?"

"Simple, they're arrogant cheap-asses; they figured that no one would dare break in, and they thought their alert system would be enough. Why waste money on expensive armored windows when you're not going to use them." I explained as I stalked over to the broken down elevator.

_ Ding! _

We both froze for a moment, and then we ducked into different areas of the room. I activated my cloak and hid behind a nearby server; while Hiram crawled under a desk near the window he had just entered.

Three Asari walked in, chatting aimlessly. "Why would the Chief want files on some cold case from five years ago?" One asked.

"Who cares, it should be on one of the storage servers." The older one replied.

"Think it has something to do with that Quarian we picked up?" The third asked.

"Dunno, I just wonder if the chief…" The oldest trailed off as she spied the broken window.

_ PftPft! _ I double tapped the one in the middle in the head; killing her instantly. I then double tapped the youngest as they crouched and drew their pistols instinctively.

I moved to the third, but she fell dead before I could properly center my sites on her.

Hiram withdrew himself from under the desk he had been hiding; immediately setting his sights on the elevator and the doors to the stairs just in case anyone else decided to come up here.  _ Good instincts. _ I thought with a smile as I walked over to the broken elevator and pulled the outer doors open.

That smile dropped when I saw what was on the other side.

The elevator was all the way down on the bottom of the shaft; that wasn't a big surprise. No, what was a big surprise was the fact that the maintenance ladder was on the other side of the shaft.

"What the fuck…" I grumbled, while Hirams shoulders sagged in disbelief.

"We have to jump that?" He asked, his voice sounding slightly strained.

"Yup… why do you have a ladder in an elevator shaft, to fix the elevator; how do you get to the ladder? You take the elevator that doesn't work, who the fuck thought this one up?" I ranted under my breath as I backed up.

"Sir… wh-" Hiram started to ask, before cutting himself off as I full tilt sprinted and jumped when I reached the edge.

I felt weightless for a second; then gravity took its hold over me and I started to drop.

_ Clang!  _ "Oof!"

I slammed up against the ladder and grabbed it with all my strength; stopping my gravity induced descent. I released the breath I didn't know I had been holding and slowly started to climb down the ladder, making room for Hiram to jump.

I looked up and over my shoulder, "C'mon Rookie, if I can make this jump with all my shit; you sure as hell can."

Hiram visibly gulped, before backing up out of my line of site. After a few seconds, a black and olive colored blur flew across the shaft; and slammed into the ladder just above me. "Ooooh my God… that was stupid… why do we keep doing stupid things…" He rambled under his breath.

"Quiet!" I hissed.

He instantly shut up, and we both started climbing down the ladder; I drew my pistol and kept my eye on the other closed doors leading to the other floors. Last thing we needed was some maintenance guy popping his head in and spotting us.

We quickly and quietly made our way down to the basement level, where the broken down elevator was resting.

"Alright, we're gonna enter in through the elevator; I'll pop the hatch and doors and make sure there ain't any cops inside." I informed Hiram as I hopped from the ladder over to the roof of the broken lift.

"Yes sir." He replied.

I nodded, before opening the emergency exit on the elevators roof; quickly using the spy camera to make sure there wasn't anyone inside and that the doors were closed. Slipping down and landing as quietly as a cat; I sneaked over to the doors and pried them open by a few centimeters, slipping the spycam through.

There was a subdued  _ thud _ as Hiram landed behind me; and I grimaced,  _ he's getting a little better at the whole stealth thing at least. _ I thought, trying to console myself with how loud he was being in comparison to me.

"Two Asari cops are inside, from what I can see; the doors to the stairs seem to be closed, and the working elevator isn't in use at the moment. Alright, we're going in."

I slowly pried the doors all the way open; and kept my pistol aimed outward. Hiram followed behind me, and I motioned for him to watch the doors to the stairs. Most of the prisoners were asleep, or were busy reading, or keeping themselves entertained through other means.

None of them noticed me as I slipped over to the last cell on the block.

There were two Asari in the cell standing over the lone occupant.

The Quarian Traveler was sitting on her cot, and since the cells were soundproof to both the inside and the outside I couldn't hear her; but from the way her shoulders were shaking, and judging how her glowing mercury eyes were dimmed, I could tell that she was crying.

_ Travel shock,  _ I realized sadly.

It was tragically common amongst fresh Travelers; especially those placed into very shitty situations like this one. This was probably the last place she wanted to be next to Omega; and it was clear to her that she wasn't getting out of here.

From her perspective, that questionnaire that she had taken had probably led to her predicament in the first place.

I stole a glance over at Hiram, and gave a quiet whistle; he looked over, and I pointed at the doors and gave a thumbs up as a question. He nodded and gave one back, meaning that we were clear so far.

I quickly hacked into the cell controls, and opened the door; which the Asari had closed behind them. The two cops whipped around in surprise, as I double tapped both of them in the head.

The Quarians sobbing stopped even as the Asari fell dead, and she gave a loud squeak; jumping backwards and pressing herself up against the wall. My wolf outfit and my skull bandanna probably not doing me any favors in reassuring her that I was a friendly.

"St-stay away from me!" She hissed, her voice thick with a Kheelish accent; which was common for Travelers that ended up transformed into a different species. They naturally knew the language of their species; which was a great help to our intelligence people.

I put a finger up to where my lips would be, "Shh…"

She instantly quieted and seemed to cower slightly; my Hi-Standard being pointed in her general direction probably wasn't helping matters, so I lowered the barrel so it was pointed at the ground while I raised my left hand. "Are you Ziva'Lorah?" I asked, smirking lightly at how she had chosen a name that sounded so similar to Tali'Zorah.

"Yes…" She whispered.

"I'm Nomad, Group for Specialized Tactics; we're here to rescue you."

It took a few minutes, but I was able to hack into the storage lockers that held Ziva's things; and found an old fashioned iPad, an omnitool, a few nutrient paste tubes, some water, and a white lab coat that doctors wear.

I pulled it out and gave her a look that said, "really?"

She got a little indignant at the look I was giving her and she put her hands on her hips; "I was a biomechanical engineering student, they gave it to us when we started classes." She snapped.

"And how long were you in classes?" I asked, her youthful attitude and the age she had submitted to her forms belying that it was basic at best.

Her eyes dimmed somewhat; "… a few months." She mumbled.

I just rolled my eyes and tossed her coat to her; walking out while she grabbed her things, "Rookie, how we looking?" I asked, ignoring the looks the prisoners, at least the ones that were awake, were giving us.

"Still nothing on their alarm systems boss; But we don't have much time before they find the bodies in the attic." He replied.

"Bodies in what attic?" Ziva asked as she exited the storage lockup.

I suppose with 20-20 hindsight, it's obvious; but the minute she exited the lockup, a loud alarm sounded.

" _ WARNING! UNAUTHORIZED EQUIPMENT WITHDRAWN FROM EVIDENCE!" _

We all looked at each other as the alarm spread to the other floors of the building.

"Well… fuck."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ThePilotArchangel has extended the invitation to any fans of his story to participate. Simply go to his page on FF.net https://www.fanfiction.net/u/8343608/ThePilotArchangel and message him.


	8. Nomad-Hiram Join Mission (Part 3)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nomad was not the first Traveler to be dumped into this Alternate Mass Effect Universe. And he most certainly will not be the last; these are the stories and adventures of the future and current members of the Systems Alliance Group for Specialized Tactics (GST).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The following stories are written as authorized expansions on ThePilotArchangel's "A Ghost and a Specter" story. This particular chapter is part of a series co-written by myself and ThePilotArchangel.

I wasted no time grabbing our Traveler; ignoring her yelp of protest as I sprinted towards the elevator.

“Inside! Quick!” I shouted, practically throwing her inside; rushing inside as Hiram closed the door behind us. “Rookie take point! Go up the ladder to the top and jump across to the fourth floor!” I ordered, already pulling myself up through the fire escape behind the other two; who had reached the ladder.

“Sir can we make that?!” Hiram exclaimed even as he climbed.

“Either that or we gun down every single person in this station!” I replied, climbing as fast as I could move my arms and legs.

“Oh Jesus, I don’t want to die!” Ziva whimpered as she climbed ahead of me; her navy blue and white colored suit doing little to help blend in with our current environment.

We got about three quarters of the way up before shit really started to hit the fan. The elevator doors to the third floor opened as two officers looked into the elevator shaft; setting their gazes right on me since I was level with them by that point.

I drew my Pistol and shot them both before they could even open their mouths or draw their weapons; but it was already too late.

“They’re in the elevator!” a third Asari shouted, moving away from the open hole.

I ignored her and kept climbing; “Faster Rookie!” I bellowed.

“This is gonna suuuuuuu-” Hiram shouted as he reached the tippy-top of the elevator shaft; and pushed off the wall as he jumped towards the fourth floor. He slammed up against the edge of the door and caught himself before he could fall.

Quickly pulling himself up, he turned and shouted, “Hurry! I can hear them coming!”

Ziva was next, shaking as she reached the top; she took a gasping breath, and jumped.

Her Quarian legs were more powerful than human legs; giving her more of a push as she pushed off the wall. She actually managed to thread the needle and landed rather ungracefully on the floor in front of the doorway.

I was last, and I reached the top just as two Asari poked their heads into the shaft and looked up.

I drew my pistol and emptied my magazine into the one on the left. It didn’t break her barriers, but both of them ducked back into cover; buying me enough time to jump across. It was fortunate that the ladder went higher than the fourth floor, otherwise we would not have made it.

As it stood, I just barely made it, slamming my ribs into the metal panels of the elevators doorway.

Ziva quickly pulled me up while Hiram began firing his MP5 into the stairway; keeping the approaching officers from advancing towards us. Getting to my feet, I drew my MP5; the close quarters combat making my Beowulf really unwieldy.

“Rookie! Take the rope and clear the Alley, Ziva you follow, I’ll join you when you’re clear!” I ordered, rushing up to the door while tossing a smoke grenade down the stairs; knowing my CrossCOMM would allow me to see through it.

Hiram was quick to follow my orders, running to the broken window with Ziva close behind; Hiram practically jumped out the window, using the rope more to slow down his fall as opposed to actually repelling down.

As Ziva struggled out of the window; I switched to the second stairway, and upon seeing two officers trying to sneak up the stairs I smashed the window of the door and shot both of them in the head with a three round burst each.

Even as they fell dead, I switched back to the other door; and saw that the officers were gaining confidence. At least five officers were hiding in the smoke, even as they began spamming the door with weapons fire.

In a split second decision, and one that I didn’t really like, I pulled my lone incendiary grenade off my chest rig; pulling the pin I tossed it down the stairs.

It was shaped exactly like a smoke grenade, so the officers probably didn’t think much of it as the metal cylinder hit the ground next to them.

_ FWOOSH! _

The officers screamed as the phosphorus and benzene filling caught fire; sticking to their uniforms and armor as it burned through their kinetic and biotic barriers. “Rookie are we clear?” I shouted.

“Ziva and I are clear sir! Hurry up though, reinforcements are on the way!” He replied.

I didn’t wait; I sprinted across the room to the window as I heard the second stairway’s door get smashed down with a biotic fist. The Asari saw the shimmer of my cloak as I jumped through the window and caught myself on the rope outside.

She drew her weapon and sprayed as much fire as she could at me.

I didn’t even bother rappelling; I just let the rope slide against my gloves as I slid down to the ground. The heat of the friction already beginning to burn slightly; In spite of the heat protection in my gloves and armor.

My boots hit the ground, just as a police cruiser landed at the entrance to the alley.

Not even wasting a breath, I drew my MP5 and fired at them; making sure to aim for center of mass now that we were in a more open environment. Hiram shot the one in the passenger side, while I shot the driver.

Both officers dropped dead.

I turned to Ziva, who was practically shaking with fear now. “You know how to shoot a gun?” I asked as sirens and shouting edged closer to use.

“I-I shot my dad’s rifle a few times, bu-” I shoved my MP5 into her hands, giving her my four spare mags.

“Aim for center of mass, and don’t point it at us. Rookie, break out the big guns! You’re on point!” I shouted as I drew my Beowulf, I felt a grin come across my face as I brought the butt of my old familiar stock to my shoulder.  _ Ahhh… good to have you back. _ I thought happily.

“Boss, which way do we go?! We can’t take off from our shuttle now!” He shouted as we started to run, just in a general direction towards the docks.

“Where’s your Asari friend live? We’ll hide out there until the heat dies down.” I shouted back; just as a police skycar arrived on the scene.

I heard the last sound that I ever wanted to hear; the sound of a cannon charging up. “COVER NOW!” I screamed, ducking into a doorway while Ziva and Hiram ducked into a side alley.

_ BZZZZTTTT! _

The sand grain sized pellets spat out of the police cruisers cannon and smacked into the ground at the speed of light; destroying everything in the alleyway. The homeless people scrambling out of the way as the beam of light worked its way up the alley.

“The fuck!? Why the fuck do the police have a gunship!?” Hiram screamed as the three of us started running as fast as we could.

“Who the fuck cares! Head to the sewers! We’ll make our way to your girlfriends from there!”

Xxx

The funny thing about guships is they aren’t really impressed when you run. They also generally have radios, so wherever you go, their friends inevitably are. We ended up being chased into another alley. We hunkered down behind a dumpster when Ziva squawked in distress. There on the ground were two Batarian corpses, long since desiccated and ravaged by Illium’s desertification and carrion. I stared blankly for a second at one of the two, wearing a tattered flannel shirt.

It was the same alley; the same god-forsaken gouge in the cityscape I’d originally arrived in. The rushing wind and roar of the gunship’s lifting fans broke my fuege. I hadn’t died in this shitty alley when I first arrived, and I’d be damned if I was going to this time around. I activated the jury-rigged riot shield on my arm, switched the cooling unit to maximum and the rifle to ‘Full’, and stepped out from around the dumpster and squeezed the trigger.

A lot of things can happen in thirteen seconds. You can say something that will ruin someone's day or save their life. You can solve a puzzle or botch a test. And if you are a machine gunner with a weapon with a 480 RPM rate of fire, you can empty a 100 round drum-magazine into a target. The crew of the gunship clearly hadn’t expected us to do more than spray ineffectual fire since they took time to try and line up shots. The gunship’s shields held for a good eight to nine seconds. The last three to four resulted in at least thirty rounds of Saboted Light Armor Piercing and Explosive Incendiary ammunition tearing through them and their vehicle.

The stricken ship careened into the alley corner, then crashed onto an arriving cruiser. There were no fireballs, but there was a pulse as the power-packs on the two ruptured.  _ That  _ started a fire.

“The  _ Fuck _ , Rookie?!” Nomad was tracking his own weapon into the inferno. “You just boxed us in;  _ now  _ what?”

I remembered those first few hours on Nos Astra: the fear, the confusion, but also the layout. The buildings on either side were business on the ground floor and residential up above. More to the point, there was alley access to both buildings. 

“There!” I pointed to a fire door on the left side of the alley. We stacked up and I broke out my Utili-Omni. I typed a quick set of commands, then injected omni-gel into the lock on the side of the door.

“That only works in the fucking game!” Nomad looked about ready to shoot me.

“What? I never played the game.” I dragged them both back and to the side of the dumpster. There was a beep from my Omni letting me know the gel was ready. I pulled out that terrible little pocket pistol, and shot the lock. The wall beside the door exploded. “I just filled it with PLX. Come on, this building has a basement. We should be able to get into the sewers that way.”

There was another tearing sound as the police finally maneuvered around the wreckage and opened fire. “Shit! Rookie, covering fire!” We switched places as I reloaded and he ushered Ziva through the breach. Where the Gunship’s shields had held for eight seconds, the various cops in personal armor lasted one; two in the case of a pair who tried to reinforce their barriers with their biotics. 

“Rook!” Nomad barked over the radio, and I broke for the breach. Once inside we made for a marked stairwell and headed down There was another door with an alarm bar, but the building’s alarms were already blaring so we pushed through and slammed the door shut behind us. 

“Oh Keelah...” Ziva squeaked and slumped against the wall. There was a streak when she sat down.

“Nomad!” 

He turned and swore. “Get the door secure while I patch her up.” 

I turned and left the man with a Quarian child attend to the wounded Quarian. I was about to weld the door shut when I noticed it was very similar to the fire doors back on untraveled Earth. I rummaged my pockets for a moment and came up with a penny. Just like back then, the penny fit snugly between the door and the jam. When I tried the door, it wouldn't budge. 

I turned around to see August helping Ziva to her feet. “How far to your girlfriend’s place?”

I brought up a map. “About 16 blocks.” I slung my rifle and picked Ziva up in a fireman's carry. “I’m the retrieval specialist, you’re the Ghost; I’ll carry the load, you just get us there alive.” 

I could see the annoyance in his eyes, but also the recognition that this was really the better play. He nodded, then swapped out for his MP5 while collecting every spare magazine we had left. We lucked out that the police didn’t immediately follow us down to the basement, as we managed to pass several junctures before the first indication of pursuit was seen. By then, we were near enough to a storm drain to make it to the street, just before a drone passed by where we had been.

We went cloaked for the remaining two blocks, and then still up to Kala’s apartment. I knocked on the door and decloaked. Kala opened with a smile that morphed into a look of shock at my state of affairs, and at the bleeding Quarian. “Hey, honey! It’s crazy outside right now. Can we crash on your couch for a bit?”

...

I let Hiram and Kala argue it out while I cared for Ziva.

She had been hit by a stray round; tearing into her side just below the ribcage. I quickly pumped the wound full of medi-gel while Ziva whimpered in pain. She was already coughing and hacking up a storm from allergic reactions; and I could see that she was in a great amount of pain.

I had been the first aid instructor during my time in the Boy Scouts in my past life; and my mother had been a volunteer EMT, so it was inevitable that I retained the skill necessary to patch people up after a gunfight.

I was no surgeon, not by a long shot; but I could keep a person alive until actual medical professionals could help.

“Urg… it hurts…” Ziva whimpered while I worked.

“Yeah, but the medigel has painkillers; you should stop feeling the pain in a few minutes.” I replied calmly, “Never a pleasant experience getting shot.”

“You’ve been shot before?” She rasped, turning her gaze towards me as I applied the patch kit to the tear in her suit.

“Oh yeah, there was this one mission that went horribly wrong; I got stabbed in the shoulder, got my arm dislocated, nearly blown up with an RPG, and got shot twice. Oh! And I broke my ankle jumping down a cliff. And I’ve got acrophobia you see, so that wasn’t a pleasant experience.” I said, keeping her attention to talking and listening so she wasn’t thinking about possibly dying.

_ “Kheelah… _ and you survived?” She asked.

I just chuckled in reply; “I’m sitting here treating you, aren’t I?” I asked sarcastically.

I could see Ziva blush from behind her indigo blue visor; but she didn’t reply.

I just gave a light shake of my head, and injected both a sedative and antibiotics through one of the injection ports on her body. “Just get some rest, you’ll need it.” I watched as Ziva’s glowing eyes slowly closed, and she lay her head down on the armrest of the couch, falling asleep.

I sighed and packed up the medical equipment, glancing at the time in the upper left corner of my CrossCOMM.

I looked out the nearby window, the shades having been closed, and I could see that night was already falling. Pickup wouldn’t be here until just before sunrise; which meant we had a lot of time to kill.

“Rookie.”

It took a few minutes, but Hiram’s thudding footsteps soon approached me; “Sir?”

“You done arguing with your girlfriend?” I asked.

“We’re all good sir, we can stay the night” He replied, then he looked at the sleeping Ziva; “how is she?”

I just shook my head and sighed; standing up and grabbing my .50 cal. “I’ve stopped the external bleeding, and the antibiotics are keeping her allergic reactions at bay; but several pellets tore through her liver, and she has internal bleeding. She’ll need surgery, or else she’ll die.” I explained.

Hiram looked stunned; “Well… let’s get a doctor then.”

I gave him a sad look, “It’s not that simple; we don’t dare leave now, and pickup won’t arrive until just before dawn.”

“That means…”

“She won’t die if I can help it; but it’s not good. All we can do now is keep her comfortable, and try to get some rest while we still can. We got a combat surgeon on our pickup, but it’s all up to her at this point.” I yanked the charging handle and sat down on a nearby chair. “I’ll take first watch Rook, I’ll wake you when it’s your turn.” I said, looking out at the setting sun.

Hiram opened his mouth to say something, but closed it and turned and walked back to the bedroom where Kala was presumably staying. “Rookie…”

He turned and looked at me.

“Just so you know, if they find us; I will try and get Kala and Ziva out of here. But when the chips are down; and I have to choose between saving this data, or saving their lives or even yours, I will choose this data. I don’t like it, and it might make me a cold hearted son of a bitch for doing it; but I will do it. I hope you understand.”

Hiram just stared at me, then turned and stormed out of the room and slammed the door shut behind him. I just sighed again and shook my head,  _ maybe we can set Kala up in witness protection when it comes down to it, our extraction isn’t going to be pretty. _ I mused, looking outside for any potential hostiles.

It was going to be a long night.

xxx

It was entirely logical. The data we had come here for was potentially worth more than any of our lives; repairing the Quarian immune system, possibly undoing the Genophage or at least making it so it wasn’t a 99.9% infant mortality rate, perhaps life-extension procedures for the Salarians, at least for ours if nobody else. It was totally logical but I didn’t give a damn at that moment because it was Illium, and everything about the planet seemed bound and determined to kill me, even ‘Nomad’.

Kala looked sullenly from the bed. I felt like a heel; I’d dragged her into this nightmare scenario twice now, this time by convincing her to let us use her apartment. I had very low hopes that Illium’s ‘Surveillance State’ wouldn’t track us down here, at which point she’d be ‘harboring fugitives’. “Kala, look when--” 

“Shut up and get over here.” There was steel in her voice even as it wavered, but I was surprised at the lack of venom. She looked up and pointed to a spot next to her. “Just sit here with me okay? I have a killer and a dying Quarian in my living room, my sister was likely killed by one of the many gangs the city can’t see through the bribes in their face, so right now you and my crappy apartment are the two most stable things in my life. So you’re going to come over here, sit down and let me freak-out without being alone.”

What was there for it but to sit. She leaned against me and shivered. I decided to do something I hadn’t done in some months. One issue I had with Omni translation software was it mangled your voice. For this, I switched the translator off. Kala looked at the device, then at me just before I started to sing.

“Smile, though your heart is aching,

“Smile, even though it’s breaking

“When there are clouds in the sky, you’ll get by.”

Her shivering slowed as I sang until finally, I heard the most ridiculous snore. I put her to bed, then got up to confront a Ghost.

xxx

I flipped through Ziva’s sketches and notes that she had made in her journal; and made sure all of her files had been copied to my omnitool with no corruptions. The data was the priority; so I made sure that I had multiple copies of the damned thing just in case something went wrong.

Ziva shifted uncomfortably in her sleep, coughing and hacking with every breath she took.

I looked out the window for what felt like the hundredth time to make sure no officers or mercenaries were approaching the building; and like all the other times, nothing. I took in the alien night sky, something that always fascinated me no matter how many different worlds I had gone to.

Still… nothing beat the northern lights of Alaska and Siberia.

Part of Ghost training was to drop trainees into Alaska and Siberia with minimal supplies; and last a month with their squad. They were hooked up to bio-monitors and stuff, and had a communicator to call us if they felt they couldn’t do it. But beyond that, they were on their own.

Nothing ever compared to their beauty.

I chuckled quietly; if we managed to cure the Quarian immune system with this data, I was going to die an early death of stress from fighting off Junes boyfriends when she reached that age. And I knew she was going to be a beautiful woman, because I had seen what her mother looked like; it was instinctual I guess, but you knew how your children would look from the moment you laid eyes on them.

_ Creak… _

I whipped my Hi-Standard towards the noise, but then checked the motion, seeing that it was Hiram walking towards me. His shift wasn’t for another few minutes, but I guess he was having trouble sleeping.

“Rook…”

“Nomad, sir…”

Even behind his oxygen mask; I could see that he was still troubled and angry at me, either from the combat we had just gone through or the whole morality of potentially leaving the Traveler we had come to retrieve behind.

I had made it very clear to him that if shit went south; both Kala and Ziva were expendable to this data. I didn’t like it, but I had done dirty shit in the past; and this would just be another incident on my conscience.

“It’s funny you know…” I started, turning my attention back outside. The retrieval specialist turned to me, looking startled; “When you’re out there fighting for your life, all you can think about is what’s ahead of you; and falling back to your instincts. But in the down time, all I can think about is my daughter; about how even if I die getting this data back home, I’ll still be able to do her good through the rest of her life.”

Hiram shifted and looked back at Ziva; “I know sir… this mission isn’t just about asset retrieval for you; it’s about giving your daughter a chance at a regular life.” He finally said, his anger seemingly leaving him somewhat.

“Yeah…” I said, nodding and looking back at the man; “I don’t know if you had kids in your past life; but I sure as hell didn’t. But I’ll be damned if there isn’t a thing I won’t do for her.”

“If it helps clear your conscience sir… I understand why you said you’ll leave all three of us to save this data. But it doesn’t make it any easier or nicer to think about.” He replied.

“It never gets easier Rookie; and pray that it never does. In this business, the only line in the sand is the one you draw; and if you cross it, you’ll lose yourself faster than you can ever believe.” I informed him, before standing up and handing him my Beowulf. “Wake me up in four hours if nothing is happening; if Ziva starts getting worse or if she reopens her wounds, kick my leg to wake me up.” I ordered.

“Got it sir…”

“Good man.” I walked over to the corner of the room so that I was facing both the door and the window at the same time; and drew my Hi-Standard. I leaned up against the wall and closed my eyes, and let myself fall into the land of dreams.

xxx

“One o’clock, and all’s well.” I mumbled quietly from my post by the window. I couldn’t say Illium was an  _ ugly _ world; it just brought out the ugly  _ in _ everything. It reminded me of Vegas that way. That, and the heat. 

Kala’s door opened and I saw her stumble a little bit while rubbing sleep out of her eyes. “Couldn’t sleep?” She blinked owlishly and said something completely unintelligible. At that point I remembered I had disabled the translator. I grumbled a little and switched it back on while Kala smirked. “I asked if you couldn’t sleep.”

She hugged herself and frowned. “No. You?”

I huffed and looked back out the window. “I’m on watch, so I can’t. Murphy’ll be along any minute now to liven things up.”

“What, more of you.” She looked genuinely angry at that, especially when I chuckled.

“There’s an old superstition from my homeworld called ‘Murphy’s Law’. ‘If anything can go wrong, it will and at the worst possible moment’.”

Her jaw clicked shut as she looked at me. “That’s a bit pessimistic isn’t it?”

“Maybe,” I looked over to where Ziva was rolling on the couch moaning slightly, “but it’s damn accurate at times.”

She looked over in concern. “Can you tell me about her?”

I couldn’t well say she was a time traveling soul from a world where Kala’s people were videogame characters. “She’s a kid who wants to be a doctor. She wants to help make people healthy and whole. She somehow ended up here with some very precious information.” I looked back out the window. “Now she has a bunch of bullet wounds and may never see the dawn, much less her home again.”

Kala walked over and knelt beside Ziva. “My sister was the go-getter of the two of us. She had plans to become a xenobiologist. Studied her tendrils off while I partied.” She rested a hand on Ziva’s side. “She used to torture me when I’d wake up hung over by making me help her study.”

I noticed her hand started to glow. “Resonant diagnostics, celular stimulation, micro cauterization. She’d find wild avians, or pyjacks that had been hit by a ground car then drag them back here and have me help her perform biotic triage.” She took her hand away from the wound and I was amazed at the difference, even through the gel suit-sealant.

“I miss her.” She began re-wrapping Zivia’s side.

“‘There are more things under heaven and Earth than even your philosophy has imagined’.” She looked at me curiously. “I wish I could explain it any better than this; you’ll see her again, and I guarantee she’ll be proud of the person you always were.” She smiled weakly as I turned back to my watch.

xxx

I shook myself awake.

Hiram stood nearby at the window; holding my Beowulf tightly, and staring out the window. Ziva was sitting up from the couch, while Kala sat next to her fussing over the Quarian Travelers bandages.

I grunted and stood up from where I had propped myself up.

“Morning sir.” Hiram called, walking over and handing me back my Beowulf while he drew his MP5.

“Morning Rook; you get any calls from our extraction team?” I asked, stifling the urge to yawn.

“No sir, but Kala did manage to help with Ziva’s internal bleeding a little bit; so she bought us some time.” Hiram replied, sounding excited.

I gave the Asari a look of suspicion; and she shrunk away slightly, my skull bandanna intimidating her and probably reminding her of her past run-ins with gangs. Turning my attention back to Hiram, I put a finger to my CrossCOMM; “Helios-Actual, this is Nomad, do you read me over?”

After a moment, a voice came back over the teamspeak;  _ “Nomad, this is Helios-Actual, we read you; your extraction team is currently five mikes from your location. They will pick you up from the roof; be advised, you may have hostiles heading for your building.” _

Both Hiram and I stared at each other for a moment; then we both dashed over to the two women sitting on the couch. “Alright ladies, finger-painting and tea session is over we gotta go.” I snapped as I helped Ziva to her feet over Kala’s protests.

“But she is in no condition to move-” Kala started before Hiram pulled her to her feet.

“Sorry Kala but he’s right, we need to move now; we have hostiles on their way, and we gotta make our way to the roof.” He explained.

Then what few lights in the apartment that were on turned off.

“Shit! They’re cutting power, Ms. Kala grab whatever you can carry and then we leave.” I ordered, moving to the door.

Kala gaped at me, looking down at her nightgown; which she had not changed out of since last night, before rushing off to grab her familial items. Which probably wouldn’t be much, but I wanted to at least give her the chance of grabbing something.

_ WHOOP! “Attention residents; three criminals are suspected of hiding in this complex. Failure to comply with local Civil Protection teams will result in permanent offworld removal!” WHOOP! _

Kala reemerged from her room; what belongings she could grab stuffed into a small duffle bag. She had thrown on a jacket over her thin nightgown; which revealed a little too much in my opinion, but I could see that she was pale from fear.

“Did they say Civil Protection units?” She demanded, her voice trembling in pitch.

I wasn’t familiar with Illium, so I looked at Hiram, who seemed to be just as afraid; “Think the NKVD from Soviet Russia, only they answer to the corporatists and the government as well.” He explained.

“So the Secret Police then, great…” I grumbled, “Helios-Actual this is Nomad; our time table just got a lot tighter, Secret Police units are closing on our location.”

_ “Understood Nomad; Make your way to the roof, our shuttle has guns to cover your escape.” _

Hearing this, I practically shoved Ziva into Hirams arms and took off running to the stairway; “Get to the roof! I’ll hold them off!” I snapped.

Already, I could hear the Civil Protection units breaking down doors and people screaming in terror as the Secret Police invaded their homes searching for us. I held the angle while the others scrambled up the stairs, their footsteps alerting the Civil Protection units that their Quarry was upstairs.

For a unit that was named after a character from Half Life; they certainly looked the part of Secret Police.

They wore thick armor, with masks and helmets covering their faces; leather trench coats blending in with their armor like it had been built with it, a style they had almost certainly picked up by looking at human Secret Police units.

I shot the first one right in the head.

I smirked as the Civil Protection units scrambled away from the stairway, even as I killed another three, and wounded a fourth; that was the thing about the Secret Police, against unarmed civilians, they were terror and power incarnate.

But against a trained, well-armed, and well equipped soldier; they were no match for me.

_ “Nomad, we’re at the roof; we can see the shuttle making its way here now.” _ Hiram informed me over the radio.

“I’m on my way!” I shouted, tossing a smoke grenade down the stairwell; followed by a frag grenade, since I had already burned my incendiary earlier. Not that I wanted to burn down the apartment, it would have been contained to the stairwell…

Hopefully.

I sprinted as fast as my legs could carry me; thanking the gene-mods for my increased strength and endurance. A naked Asari peeked her head out of her room as I ran by; which didn’t surprise me since there wasn’t a nudity taboo for Asari.

What did surprise me was that she began screaming, “Officer! Officer! Up here!”

I cursed as I ran up the stairs, knowing that they would be on me in seconds. I had to give Secret Police units, and police units in general, credit where it was due; they knew how to move fast when it came to catching their targets.

_ BlamBlam! _

I hissed as rounds pinged off my kinetic barriers; dropping my shield energy as I went around the corner and out of their line of site. They were accurate too, I had to give them that as well; they probably had a lot of practice by shooting people in the back of the head.

So imagine my surprise when they just started shooting at me from the floor below; Mass Effected pellets zipping upwards like beams of lightning going the opposite direction.

I yelped as one clipped my left forearm, and another grazed my right thigh.

I stumbled but didn’t dare stop moving; quickly tossing my only other frag grenade backwards at the stairway that led downstairs to try and slow them down.

_ BOOM! _

The gunfire ceased as I made my way up the last set of stairs before the outside; I only had one more to go before I reached the roof.

_ “Nomad! Our rides here, we’re telling them to wait!” _ Hiram shouted.

_ That naive little _ “If they start shooting at you, fucking take off! I’ll be fine!” I shouted.

_ “All due respect sir, we’re waiting for you; now hurry up!” _ It was stupid, but I still felt a little heartened by the show of loyalty.

“Fuckfuckfuck!” I cursed as they started shooting up at me from below again; clearly desperate to stop me from leaving.

_ WHAP! _ “AH!”

I staggered to a stop, blood pouring from my shoulder as I spied an Asari Civil Protection Officer with her mask and helmet off smirking at me; her rifle smoking as she blocked the stairway.

I didn’t have time for this; I whipped my Beowulf up and flipped it to full auto.

_ BANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANG! _

I emptied all remaining ten rounds into the Asari; the first five, she stopped with her biotics while keeping that smirk. The next three broke her barrier; which dropped that smirk from her face. The last two drilled into her stomach, causing her face to contort in agony.

The Secret Policewoman shrieked in pain, basting her own assault rifle on full auto; far less accurately and only landing two hits. One sliced through my right thigh while missing the bone and artery; while the other tore through my side just below the left side of my ribcage.

Again, missing the bone and organs.

And unlike bullets, which crippled you even if it wasn’t a direct hit since they would displace your organs, bones, and blood vessels; Mass Effect pellets just went straight through you, and while damaging, it wasn’t disabling.

I slung my rifle and drew my Hi-Standard; triple tapping the Officer in the chest and the head even as I limped/ran down the hall to the last set of stairs. Since she had no helmet, and no shield or biotics to stop it; the .22 caliber bullets dropped her dead.

But as I reached the stairs just as her body hit the ground; I got hit again.

_ WHAP! _

I fell face first onto the stairs and spat out blood; that one had hit my right lung, missing my sternum thankfully. I turned around to look, and saw a Batarian; this one also not wearing a helmet and mask, a smirk on his face.

I had no ammo in my Beowulf, and no time to reload; so I whipped up my Hi-Standard, and emptied the last four rounds at his head. Despite me knowing full well it would do nothing if he had Barriers.

So imagine to my surprise when his head popped, which shouldn’t have happened with a dinky little .22; then I felt someone start dragging me up the stairs. I looked up and saw Hiram dragging me, his MP5 pointed at the stairs.

Pushing down my surprise, I quickly holstered my pistol while drawing my revolver; just in time for five more officers to come running up the stairs.

_ BANG!BANG!BANG!BANG!BANG! _

Their heads exploded like watermelons as the .50 caliber action express tore through their barriers and their armor.

Upon seeing no other officers; Hiram picked me up in a fireman’s carry, and ran towards the shuttle where Kala stood with Hiram’s Batarian Pistol in hand, a dead Secret Policeman nearby while Ziva lay on the floor of the shuttle, the corpsman and the doctor already tending to her.

Hiram jumped on board as more Civil Protection officers came pouring out of the stairway.

He practically slammed me down on the floor of the shuttle, and spun around; spraying his entire mag at the officers to keep them pinned. Just as the bay door started to close, the transport starting to leave, and just as the Corpsman leaned over to take a look at me, and just as Hiram's MP5 ran dry; an Officer pulled out an Anti-Aircraft Missile launcher.

Shoving the Corpsman out of the way, I fired my last .50 cal. Revolver round.

It wasn’t a headshot, but it was enough; the officer fell backward clutching their chest, just as the shuttle closed the door, and took off at top speed.

I started laughing even as I coughed up blood, I yanked off my bandanna and oxygen mask; “Rookie!” I shouted with a bloodstained grin while the Corpsman pushed me down, “You just drew your line!” I said pointing at the startled retrieval specialist, “Just don’t break it!” I managed to get out as the corpsman pumped me full of sedatives.

I slumped over, and fell asleep with a manic grin on my face.

xxx

The shuttle ride to Beta Site was crowded. Two wounded stretched out on the floor with a medic shuffling between them didn't leave much room for laying down, and the Kodiak’s jump seats were as uncomfortable as a C-130’s. There was a bit of a show when Kala dressed in what little she had grabbed, though everyone had the decency not to stare.

Schultz’s team were waiting for us, and everyone piled out to be debriefed and receive proper medical attention. I was relieved of my kit and spent the next day in and out of various security offices. Most everyone was surprised that the mission went off as well as it did. I was just amazed that I managed to survive Illium with little more than sore ribs from the elevator jump and some rope burn on my hands.

I finally was released and scheduled to head back to the Spirit of Fire, when I bumped into Kala again. “Hey.” I didn’t think there was anything I could have said to put what had happened to her in anything resembling perspective.

She gave me an unreadable look, then punched me in the arm. “You still owe me a date. And an apartment now. Not some crappy little efficiency either.”

I chuckled. “I promised you a date, and I am a man of my word. As for the apartment, I’m on a government salary, so don’t expect miracles.”

She harrumphed. “I expect you.”

I smiled for a moment, then had a thought. I brought her into a kiss, and thought one very specific thought.

She broke off the kiss and looked at me in surprise. “What..” She acted out what I had thought in confusion.

I locked eyes on her. “If you’re ever in trouble,  _ real  _ trouble, send me a message with that included. I find some way to get to you.” She nodded, and continued to her shuttle while I headed to mine.

I arrived back on the Fire in record time; well, for someone used to traveling by Starbug. I made a beeline for my assigned cabin and just flopped into my bunk.

<Retrieval Team Jawa, please report to Personnel for immediate tasking. Retrieval Team Jawa, please report to Personnel for immediate tasking.>

“Fuck you Illium!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ThePilotArchangel has extended the invitation to any fans of his story to participate. Simply go to his page on FF.net https://www.fanfiction.net/u/8343608/ThePilotArchangel and message him.


	9. Data Raid

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nomad was not the first Traveler to be dumped into this Alternate Mass Effect Universe. And he most certainly will not be the last; these are the stories and adventures of the future and current members of the Systems Alliance Group for Specialized Tactics (GST

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The following stories are written as authorized expansions on ThePilotArchangel's "A Ghost and a Specter" story. This particular chapter was co-written by myself and 'mp07'.

Data Raid (03/14/2182- 05/30/2182)

_ /Major August Lee [AL] Has Joined The Chat... _

_ /Lt. Col. Karl Schultz [KS] Has Joined The Chat… _

_ [KS]: Alright August, what have you got for me? I thought you were busy out on New Kurdistan. _

_ [AL]: I am, but a little bird told me something interesting regarding Councilor Tevos and the Quarians. _

_ [KS]: I'm listening. _

_ [AL]: I'm sending you the data now; I don't want to discuss this over an open line. _

_ [KS]: …Wow… _

_ [AL]: "Wow" he says… of course "wow"; we get this info, and Tevos' political career is done. Hell, it'll probably get the Quarians an embassy on the Citadel if we play our cards right. _

_ [KS]: Don't get greedy mien friend; let Grant deal with all the political wheeling and dealing behind the scenes. _

_ [AL]: Yeah, yeah spare me the talk; I still don't know why you trust him so much, especially considering the fact he's been here longer than you have. Time changes people you know. _

_ [KS]: Have more faith August, the two of us went through hell together; In any case, I'll need a Retrieval team and a Ghost team for this kind of op, any suggestions? _

_ [AL]: I'll send GT Foxhound back to the Spirit; they've been on Urzikstan for a while, so they deserve a lighter assignment. Just make sure you aren't next to them when they learn they aren't being given a vacation. _

_ [KS]: Why can't you tell them? _

_ [AL]: …You want to tell Raven face to face, be my guest. _

_ [KS]: Fair point; what about a Retrieval Team? _

_ [AL]: I think I've got one in mind… _

**Milky Way/Serpent Nebula/Widow/Citadel/Zakera ward/Mid-ward district/ Sigil's club 20:00 hrs 03/14/2182 CE**

"Uff" came the grunt of various cushions among the chairs and sofas of the dedicated section of the travelers owned club as the ghost team flopped to rest after a recent stint in Urzikstan.

"Last goddamn time we do  **ANY** favors to Bubba and check his intel on weapons upgrades, fuck! Did it really have to be a vorcha nest of all places to hide a cache of illegal mods?" The Operator known as Taurus snapped.

"Well at least you got the EASY job; Raven and I had rearguard duty and it was not pretty. Eclipse threw a whole  _ legion _ of mechs while you were playing 'Indiana Jones: Galaxy Edition'." His partner Leo grumbled in reply.

Their third teammate, Raven snorted angrily, "Shut up Will you! We are here right; could we leave the mess to Orix? It's no longer our problem on how much tech we recovered, and command should be happy now that cryo rounds are on the menu thanks to us."

"... yeah just bitching, tho anybody get the case label in poorly concealed  _ bright red _ marker 'SECRET' with the asari warp ammo specs / manual?" Joe, Leos friend and fourth teammate, asked.

Raven raised her hand, "Here! Also, don't that raise a lot of questions on how it ended up there?"

"Don't know, don't care! We are out; no more on that please?" Leo replied.

"Fuck! who  _ knew  _ they kept the heavy gear on the  _ other  _ side of the compound and didn't report it ASAP?" Joe demanded

Raven raised her hand again, "Also here, although on my defense we were swarmed so… not our fault"

Phoenix, their team leader finally had enough of their complaining and snapped, "Enough moping! Get your arses rested; we earned it, so by god I better have a pint in my hand now or I will light up that blasted tail of yours if you people don't stop that blabbering!"

The silence following was broken by guffaw of laughter that changed to tired voices and the muffle sounds of the club

Phoenix just shook his head. "God help me I'm among children..." he glanced to the left near the door where the emergencies/comm terminal was blinking. "For the... WOULD IT KILL YOU TO LEAVE US SOME REST!" He bellowed at the blinking light, followed by the rest of the team shooting the little shit.

Taurus just rolled his eyes, "Sarge I think I speak for all and say it can wait a day. I mean, how bad could it get?"

"JINX!" "SALAO!" "FUCK!"

Phoenix just huffed, sitting down on a nearby sofa. "Ok that particular issue can wait until we get trashed so... girl, bring the booze. We need a lot of it! Now that the idiot jinxed it, expect a shitstorm ahead!"

**In transit/spirit of fire/D-deck/command center/18:14 hrs 03/16/2182 CE**

Walking among the rest of the staff of the spirit, one came to a door familiar to any traveler involved in combat ops.

It was jokingly calls the  _ dem  _ for the particular group of intel monkeys comprise of Egetok Rosboros (batarian), Vato'Shaesal nar Coraka (quarian), Serpius Veridus (turian), Ronall Aemino (salarian), Hector Habersham (human); they had been pouring an unholy amount of time digging deep in any kind of intel every ghost team in the field try to leave with. As with all things there is always a downside, this one in particular was just how in depth they got in every avenue, detail or inquiry on a specific objective they were sent for data mining.

One highlight of this group was the raid of 15 EA cells in under a week of prep time for the assault, so if they gave you tips it was treated as if the words came from God himself around here.

So being tasked by them in an enforcer capacity meant either a whole hell is going to blow up or we were about to wreck some shit up in spades.

"Alright people what's the word?" One looked up from her terminal and responded in usual fast speech at first.

"Oh goodynewfacesletme-"  _ cough, cough _ "Pardon me. Hi, take a seat we have some wonderful news for the rest of the travelers aboard."

Lifting an eyebrow, Raven asked, "What exactly would do that? Did you find a way home or the reason/means from which we came here?"

"Not yet still trying to solve that one but just as good, hard proof of councilor Tevos dirty laundry and best of all its from way back like junior grade mess that fester to outright sex scandal level!"

Welp that ought to be juicy if this was how giddy she's prattling.

"Well don't leave me hanging; spill girl!"

"Her involvement in the Quarian exile." She said with a shit eating grin uncharacteristic for a Salarian. "Specifically, the obstruction of the Quarian federation and subsequent exodus from Rannoch."

All that could be processed in our mind was a chorus in unison of "SHIT!"

**In transit/spirit of fire/B-deck/habitation-crew quarters/14:20 hrs 03/17/2182 CE**

" _ Retrieval Team Jawa, please report to personnel for immediate tasking. Retrieval Team Jawa, please report to personnel for immediate tasking." _

I looked up from the letter I had been writing Kala. It had been a slow week; with several Ghost teams deployed, Retrieval teams were holding until escort teams were available. I was signing the letter when it occurred to me that no other teams were being called up. I wasn't sure what that meant for our mission, but I sent a quick message to the armory to have my kit readied.

I arrived at Said's office just before the Brothers. Jaun was already there, as was an unfamiliar Ghost Fire Team, and Intelligence Director Schultz.

"Good, you're all here. We'll begin by reiterating that this meeting is classified and eyes only. You will  _ not _ speak about what is shown or discussed here." He tapped a control on the desk, bringing up a hologram of two beings: an unknown Salarian, and a  _ very  _ well-known Asari. "Two months ago, we intercepted a communique between Asari Councilor Tevos, and a Salarian business person and outspoken opponent of the Quarian people, Fanin Miralano. This communique hinted at a piece of information Miralano's clan has been holding against Tevos for several generations."

He tapped another desk control, and a list of locations came up. "For the last month, we have been conducting surveillance of several Council Black Sites suspected to be Data control centers. We've turned up a history of such messages from the Miralano clan dating back 300 years," a message popped up in front of everyone, "starting with the immediate aftermath of the Morning War." The holograms closed and everyone refocused on Schultz. "We believe Councilor Tevos and the Miralano Clan had some direct involvement in the events of, or leading up to, the Geth Uprising."

Hans shifted a little in his seat. "So our mission, should we choose to accept it-" there was a slight amount of chuckling.

Schultz didn't laugh. "There's no  _ should  _ about it. Fire-team Foxhound and Retrieval-team Jawa are being tasked with the retrieval of any or all data relating to this matter. This will require the assault of secure Council Government Black Sites, possibly the acquisition of persons associated with the information. Fanin is high on that list both as a potential intelligence source, and as a hostile actor against the Quarian people."

Said tapped the desk, and three star systems came up. "We've identified three targets: Vard in the Krogan DMZ, Kensal in the Dis system," there was some more uncomfortable shuffling and muted curses for that particular system among the gathered in the room, "and Halegeuse in the Pranas system."

Schultz picked up the briefing. "As of this point our assets placed near mister Miralano have been in a deadlock. As many of you know, and to those who are not aware of Salarian customs or families structures, the simple version of it is an Indu-cast/medieval household; so lots of intra-house and inter-house confrontations. As a means to get an easy excuse to cover for this quagmire, we sent some of our own to get a lay of the land so to speak, and possibly what enemies the Miralano line had up to now."

A new set of individuals appeared on the hologram. "So far a few of our Salarian Assets going by Caehan Farajie, Venall Depone, Sarparp Irajia and Pegann Vukso have tried to get the size on the targets and have reported unusual responses to inquiries in certain areas; particularly, reaction to question where his finances are concerned by themselves speak VOLUMES. Tevos wants this on the down-low. We're talking millions of credits going to supposed R&D, but we can't verify that at all."

I glanced nervously at the other members of Jawa, as well as the mystery Ghost team. "Sir, it sounds like this is going to be a fairly serious raid. With all due respect, that's Ghost work." I nodded to the five person team. "What do you need us here for?"

"To help us haul everything  _ esta maldita sabandija tiene _ " one of the Ghosts interrupted.

Another added "Also all current fireteams have their hands full with the EA acquisitions supply chain over on New Kurdistan."

Juan nodded. "Alright. So what are we picking up? I doubt you're going to want us to  _ ir a paso de caracol _ in the Marvin, so the hauler shuttle's out of the question."

Frans looked thoughtful for a moment. "What about the Turian shuttle we picked up on Cocytus?" Everyone looked at him. "No I'm serious! It's a government transport, it's hella faster than anything else we've got and-"

"You want to name it the 'Tydirium', don't you bruh?" Hans snarked.

There was a sharp rap on the table and everyone refocused on Schultz. "The shuttle is a possibility for one of the phases of this operation, but for now we focus on this in stages." The image of the Dis system returned. "We need a data encryption key stored on a secure server on Kensal. Without it, we have nothing. Not to mention that Miralano is guarded 24/7, so nabbing him will be an ordeal in itself."

Juan frowned slightly. "Can't say I'm happy with the idea of kidnapping; I spent the first ten years of my career fighting that sort of thing."

Said waved in a placating manner. "That's going to be  _ Ghost _ work." There were some aside glances between us and Ghost Team Foxhound. "Your team is to focus on the second and third stages: the Cypher Key on Kensal, and the final data raid on Halegeuse."

Schultz tapped the desk again. "We've set up a series of scenarios at a remote site in the holodeck on Zonness station in the Armstrong Nebula. We'll be leaving the materials necessary for the job there. Let me be CLEAR; at no point can  _ any _ clue about us appear in this op. We want all of the geth specs they have been hoarding for anti-geth measures and upgrades."

Schultz shut the projector off and stood up. "So if there's no further delays I suggest that you get acquainted. You are dismissed."

Everyone else stood up and saluted, then filed out to gather their equipment for transfer to Zonness.

One of the operatives piped once out of Schultz sight. "Well this will be sooooooooo much fun."

"Oh come on it's not that bad; we get some time with the dungeon masters now that the station is up and running."

"Says the guy who doesn't personally know any of the DM's." A sigh escaped the rest of the Ghosts. "We are aware of where Alastor had parked his ass once the bastard got pulled from that job in omega, and let me tell you Phoenix by the end of our visit you will wish to blow him to bits."

The Ghost Team turned to address us. "Well since the orders were issued and we are going to be rooming in the playground that is Zonness for the foreseeable future introduction are abound. My callsign is Phoenix and this ragtag band are," pointing at his teammates, "Raven, Taurus, Leo, Joe and Lion; Hound Beast or more known among the fireteams as Foxhound, so now who are you?"

Juan squared his shoulders. "I'm Lt. Juan Rodriguez-Rivera, _Policía de la Ciudad de México,_ _grupo de Fuerza especiales."_ He grimaced for a moment. "Formerly, now commander of Retrieval team Jawa." He gestured to the rest of us.

" _ Oh que bien al fín otro latino aparece en este bote lleno de gringos ¿mira como te ha ido desde que tu ticket al más allá? ¿que parece haberse perdido con San Pedro? _ " [Oh good finally another latino shows up in this boat full of gringos. So how have you been since it looks like your ticket to the pearly gates seems to be lost with Saint Pete?]

Juan barked a laugh.  _ "Guiando a este grupo de dementes y tratando de ganarle a ese hijo de puta Gordon de Ajax en el campo;"  _ Juan crossed his arms in frustration, _ "el cabrón jugo profesional para el Arsenalt antes de unirse al SAS, sin mencionar las modificaciones genéticas desde que llegó acá." _ [Wrangling this motley crew, and trying to beat that son-of-a-bitch Gordon from Fire Team Ajax at football; the bastard played for Arsenault before joining the SAS, and that was before traveling here and getting gene mods.]

I saw Hans and Frans shuffling uncomfortably out of the corner of my eye. "Relax, he's not talking about us."

Hans straightened up. "Yeah, how do you know? You speak Spanish all of a sudden?" Frans crossed his arms and nodded.

I chuckled. "No, but I listen;  _ El Jefe's  _ annoyed, and he mentioned ' _ puta _ Gordon', so he's probably grousing about yesterday's route, I mean bout."

Juan growled without looking at me. " _ Ese puto gringo _ is a fucking cheat and he knows it." He turned back to the Ghosts and threw a thumb over his shoulder at me. "This  _ pendejo _ is Hiram; former American Air Force, and our crash-recovery and hazmat specialist. Those two  _ cabezas de chorlito _ are Hans and Frans, Fire Jumpers from the Sierra Madres. They're our medical and flight specialists."

Hans waved, while Frans smiled at Raven and winked.

Raven's response was a bit of a mixed signal for Jawa. "Careful boy, I'm already taken; or more accurately, you need to ask him." She pointed at Leo and displayed a shit eating grin. "We have a let's say  _ Turian agreement. _ " Leo looks Frans up and down as if measuring while outwardly licking lips. "So unless you want to be third wheel or the filling, leave while you are ahead."

Frans back off in panic faster than a sugar daddy with a whoe looking for government support at that reply while the rest of us laughed.

"So, with that out of the way can we focus our attention on the incoming and potentially ruin of one bitch supreme?" Phoenix said to everyone. "Given our current location, it's a few days to Zonness. I suggest packing the bags now so anything important isn't left in this tub."

Juan nodded and turned to the rest of us. "Sure. Hey, you heard the man; gather your stuff  _ cabrones, _ we're jumping ship.  _ Vámos _ ! "

**In transit/spirit of fire/D-deck/Research & development wing/ 17:30 hrs 03/17/2182 CE**

After separating from Jawa, Foxhound went to R&D for an update on the recovered tech from the last job on Digeris, the third planet in the Castellus system near a Turian settlement.

Taurus smiled and waved to a familiar Asari as he walked into the labs "Yo! Heliix baby where are you!? Your daddy's back! So come a give me a kiss"

"I'll say it no matter how many times… LEAVE ME ALONE YOU OAF! IT WAS ONE TIME AT THE CHRISTMAS PARTY, SO BACK OFF!" The normally level headed Asari Traveler bellowed, her Biotics flaring in anger as she glared at Taurus.

… _ that's odd _ , we look at the gigantic NFL and ask with our gaze.

"What? Oh that? She's just denying a most joyous night of passion and it's still regretful for not having enough fun while on the mount" Taurus explained while doing a lecherous gesture outright missing the thrown petri dish at his head, he turn to a biotically charge maelstrom in the shape of Dr Heliix "baby don't be like that; it's the truth!"

She shrieked. "LIKE HELL IT IS!"

Before any more damage could be caused in a sensitive and extremely important part of the ship, we grabbed the fool and threw him out with the help of some scientists on duty.

"Doctor, if you'd be so kind to relax now that the idiot is out of the picture... how is it going with the cache from digeris?" Pheonix asked with a placating gesture, looking like he wanted to bolt.

"Remarkably well actually," releasing the last of her anger, she continued, "thanks to you the time table for the field kits have been reduced by a substantial margin, although the asari warp ammo is a whole beast to dissect that's for sure." A look of disdain plastered itself once the asari warp ammo was mentioned "We still don't get  **how** in the blazing hell the warp effect is sustained outside the breach, but there is progress nonetheless."

Breathing with relief at the good news brought by risking our hides, the team minus dumbass left the area to prep for the stay at Zonness.

**Armstrong Nebula/ Zonness station/ 05:25 hrs 03/20/2182**

Once everyone set foot on the station, the two teams were greeted by a krogan female by the name of Noksan: master of the playground, avid designer, former wildlife photographer and one chatterbox rivaling Mordin with that huge mug of coffee in hand.

"Welcome, welcome all aboard my humble abode!" With a flourish of mannerism the mountain of activity faces the teams. "My, my, my new faces in these places! What brings such a group of beautiful men to such a lonely tub mmmh?" Ending it with a peppi tone.

For such a massive creature the traveler across the room gave the vibes of a really mischievous broad, once you ditched the exterior case and just listen to the words alone...

Hans elbowed his brother and smirked while Frans took a hesitant step back. Juan Shook his head. " _ infantes _ ." He looked over at the hostess. "We're RT Jawa. We're here with them." He nodded to GT Foxhound who just shrugged and replied in kind.

Phoenix nodded, adding "Well ma'am, aside from the view we need a couple of days for a little  _ extraction.  _ With your permission I'll want some of the room available for all the people here."

"Of course! But first as a custom of us dungeoneers is to set a little puzzle at the entrance. Don't worry; it's not that hard to solve." Noksan replied cheerily.

Following our guide we arrive at the door with a deliberate front resembling the Gates of Hell and a plaque near it. "Just answer the question here and we can proceed to the rest of the station."

On the plaque the question glared back at the Retrieval and Ghost teams.

Taurus bent over to see what it was " _ audiet clamorem caelum plenus stellarum per solitudinem suam nec solum secum auferret particeps conatus fiant luminaria, ego vis ad vitam surje suo purior lux in responsione ad surruga. Dic mihi ignotum mysteria adulescentulum secreto ambulantem in vita post hanc futura expecto te? _ ... welp this is one for the literary major's-"[The sky full of stars cries for its loneliness without response or partner, only its vibrant lights accompany it, for the purest wish it must be that from its light life arises in response to its wrinkle. Tell me young man that you walk towards the unknown what mysteries await in the afterlife?] looking at the rest of the group he asked, "Any ideas?"

Hiram blanched slightly. "Enzio could tell us. Can I get a lifeline?"

Juan palmed his face, grumbled and passed a cursory glance at the brothers. "Anything?"

Raven deadpanned. "Seems easy enough"

Taurus looks aghast at that declaration. "How!? It was in  _ latin  _ for starters and it makes no sense!"

Leo looked at everyone "Well if you'd have bothered to scan it would notice the meaning of the question."

Joe looked at Noksan. "It's an easy riddle no?"

The smile plastered on Noksan's face said it all.

Phoenix snorted, "really?" walking to the plack she leaned over and observed before walking around it ending at a sedated pace for like 2 minutes.

"A'ight got nothing anybody care to try?" She said.

Looking between each other, nobody came forward.

Leo rubbed his chin. "...The sky full of stars cries for its loneliness without response or partner, only its vibrant lights accompany it, for the purest wish it must be that from its light life arises in response to its wrinkle. Tell me young man that you walk towards the unknown what mysteries await in the afterlife?... light life  _ arises  _ in response to its wrinkle..."

Raven joined him. "... _ walk towards _ the unknown what mysteries await in the afterlife? Mmh… maybe something to do with motion?"

Leo glanced at her. "Perhaps? *mumbles* it's motion towards a point or goal…" He snapped his fingers. "Hey I think I got an idea of what it is!"

Hiram shrugged. " _ Abandon all hope, ye who enter here _ ? We already know what awaited  _ us _ in the afterlife." Hiram swept his arms to encompass everyone.

Phoenix looked at Hiram skeptically. "Well we could try that one." He wrote the response below the plaque and... nothing. He turned his gaze at Hiram again in deadpan and looked to the rest. "Any  _ other _ suggestions?"

Leo stepped forward and began to type on the plaque "Alright here goes" and the doors open with a hiss and mist rumbling for effect "Huh… it worked"

Hans huffed. "Let me guess, the elvish word for 'friend'?" His brother elbowed him in annoyance.

Leo shook his head. "Nah, didn't go with Tolkien; movies were good don't get me wrong but that wasn't what the door was asking remember? It alluded to a goal; the answer was tricky tho."

"And that would be?" Frans said intrigued.

" _ un viaje a las estrellas _ "

The Jawa team all looked at Juan for clarification. " _ A journey to the stars. _ " There was a collective  _ Oh _ and everyone refocused on their hostess.

Noskan clapped excitedly. "Bravo! Bravo there is a head in proper conditions in this group! Now if no more games are of your palate allow me to show you the rooms you'll be bunking in."

Passing the entrance a tour of the facility with a fairly comfy look to the habitation parts, followed by the holodecks ending in the main room. Noskan turned after finishing the tour. "Now that the fun is over, what do you require of the dungeon masters?"

Phoenix Stepped forward with a tablet. "Well ma'am if it's no problem recreations of these places; we have some rather pressing time tables put here."

Noskan quickly looked the data over. "That can be arranged, what force are we putting / expecting? Ground support, air support, assassins, IED's, azure dripping asari hookers?"

"I  **WISH** it was that!" Hans laughed with an unfocused gaze.

Leo looked at the Fire-Jumper with a little concern. "Really? Need I remind you they're a psionic species?"

Raven snarked. "Like you are the one to  **talk** ." Her tone sent a shiver down everyone's back. "Need  _ I _ remind you of the  **shitshow** in Beckstein where that Eclipse commander was hounding for your ass after you played with that  _ tail  _ hanging at your waist?"

Taurus laughed while shivering. "Yeah, but honestly what exactly did you do? Cuz the way she pursued you was outright scary; like  _ yandere _ levels of crazy."

Leo looked distressed and said, "Let's not talk about it!" and ran away to secure a room.

_ (Leo's POV) _

Entering a door for the rest area and finding a crew quarter plopping on the bed

Well that got awkward fast, what was Raven even thinking? let alone know about the mild psionic contact bits in the wires at the end of it, just hope nobody piece together the asari cell's on it... urgh! please no more just business to be dealt please.

Frans looked over at his brother. "Looks like you got some competition, bruh!" The rest of Jawa shook their heads and began gathering their effects.

Taurus laughed at that display and gave his two cents "Well how about that! Knew there was something he was hiding!"

Raven looking upset chided the man. "And you've got no shame it seems; Heliix was wanting to throw you the airlock last time so zip it!"

Phoenix whistled sharply, gathering everyone's attention. "Well people let's meet here in an hour to start the first run-through." He activated the tool to message Leo for the sim.

Phoenix looked at the trashed remains of jawa. "Ok that could have gone better, and really could have if the brothers," he looked pointedly at Hans and Frans, "would have stopped looking in fascination at the first ever salarian striper in their lives when more important matters were at hand."

Taurus with a look of puzzlement "That is the  _ first  _ female Salarian I ever saw that skimpy; didn't know they even had stripers!" Leo and Raven nodded absentmindedly at that remark.

Hans and Frans shivered. "That wasn't fascination… that was Horror!"

Hiram stepped out of his hardsuit and rolled his shoulders. "At which of our three sites do we really expect to encounter random Strippers?"

Joe piped up. "You'd be surprised"

Juan whistled sharply. "Enough about the damned Strippers! We're here to practice, and so far we've learned that we need to focus better. We're  _ all _ better than this." He turned to Phoenix. "Let's take an hour to review and catch our breath, then hit it again."

Phoenix nodded. "Agreed, and you lot," he looked at his own team, "care to  **not level a city block** worth of mooks; remember it's an  _ extraction _ ! Not a search and destroy!" He looked to the control booth. "Again if you will Noskan?"

**Armstrong Nebula/Zonness station/ 09:25 hrs 03/21/2182**

Foxhound was scanning the area around their 'extraction shuttle' when a comotion came from one of the adjoining corridors. Raven looked at Taurus in confusion as the training hall filled with a frantic cry.

"Wubba-Lubba-Dub-Dub!" Jawa came barreling around the corner. Juan and Hiram were carrying a complete Salarian data terminal and core, while Hans and Frans gave bounding harassing fire on something behind them. Foxhound was preparing to move when Juan yelled out, "Yeet!" The terminal sailed over their heads to slam into the passenger compartment of the shuttle.

As soon as they were free of their burden, Jawa hit the deck giving Foxhound a clear view of the Baker's Dozen mechs in Eclipse colors, including one YMIR.

At the sight of such a horde of metal the only response was a judicious application of dakka courtesy of 3 heavy geared cavemen shouting, "Waste them!" "Rip and tear!" "Suck it skynet!" followed by the rest as they hauled ass to the shuttle.

A prompt hail of return fire that ended their futile efforts as the shuttle caught fire from the other side of the station, blasting the teams to the floor to be overrun by mechs.

Noskan nodded with a strained smile at the progress done in the sims. "Ooooohhh that's gotta hurt!"

Foxhound and Jawa staggered out of the simulation area. Leo slumped against a wall. " _ Mierda _ ! Why'd bring the whole damned computer?"

Juan desperately gulped down water. "We didn't have time to transfer the data through it's encryption; we learned  _ that _ on the last run through."

Hiram was absently making repairs to one of the Waldo-arms on his suit. "We already know the info gets lost in holographic storage if it loses power, so we needed the terminals back-up power." There was a creak and whine as the arm retracted into his backpack. "We know the setup now, so I think I can rig something as external power, but it's still going to be a  _ bitch _ getting the core out and hooked up in time."

Juan slumped down. "This would be a lot easier if we had a peer-to-peer system we could download to, but we'd need a Salarian Datacore with the right..." He trailed off. " _ Mierda hijo de la grandisima puta! Por que no se me ocurrió desde un principio! _ Noskan, I have a call to make. Everybody, get some rest." He levered himself up and headed for a secure comms terminal.

**Armstrong Nebula/Zonness station/ 12:45 hrs 03/22/2182**

Noskan lounged in her chair and mused on how the teams had performed the past few days in the sims, when a bleep brought her back from her thoughts.

_ Success! Well, well, well, looks like fun is over. _ "Congratulations brave adventurers!" She exclaimed.

The exhausted Ghost and Retrieval teams gave a weak 'Yay' and limply waved their hands in the air; all except Hiram who fiercely gripped one of the data-cores he and Juan had liberated from the Q-ship in the George system a couple of years back. It had been modified to have a dedicated power source, and was fully capable of interfacing with any known Salarian computer system.

Phoenix rising from his kneeling position asked the beat up crew "So anybody else sick with being in this toy box?"

Hans scowled. "Considering  _ our  _ next stop is the Dis system, I'm quite happy staying here until the last minute."

Taurus added "Suit yourself. I'm one of the poor souls that have to drag that frog to a brig while on the run."

Raven asked. "What, not coming?"

Leo tiredly waved at his teammates. "Leave it; we have this bozo to do the drudge work for us once the lead starts flying in every direction."

Joe grumbled. "Ain't that the usual."

With little energy the group left the room and headed to the dormitories for their last night of rest before beginning their respective missions.

**Milky Way/Hades Gamma/Dis System/Klensal/wastes/former Alludest't robotics complex/ 20:15 hrs 03/25/2182**

Once the shuttle neared the OA, it was shrouded in low power stealth and settled down on the planet. Adjusting to the 0.86 gravity of Klensal the frigid temperatures did not help with camo at all. The emitters of the ghost's cloaks, not to mention the sensor suite were not designed for the environment.

We circled the landing zone twice trying to get a solid enough sensor read to confirm we wouldn't be landing on an ambush. Frans was by now a steady hand on the Kodiak's controls so when Phoenix finally ordered us to land, there wasn't the slightest bump. All of us were nervous working in the shadow of a former Reaper gravesite. There was little need for conversation as Phoenix, Raven and Lion activated their cloaks and slipped out the side door. Juan, Hans and myself readied to make a dash for the nearby mine entrance. Frans was prepared to take off as soon as we were clear, and land again for a quick getaway.

The ghost leading the charge to the door trying to be the least amount of time in this curse system threw drones left and right at a close distance for dealing with the interference and reached the door and secured it for jawa. Lion crouched and started working in bypassing the lock and checking for traps and alerts being sent in  **any** direction disabling the mag seal to the building.

Once he was sure the area was secure, he pulled out a small flashlight and flashed it at us.

The red light blinked from the open shaft, and the three of us darted out into the biting cold. The wind rushing by almost drowned out the sound of the Kodiak lifting off behind us.

We stacked up behind the Ghosts who made way for us.

Juan set to work on the lock face, his years of experience at disarming bombs making quick work of the locking mechanisms. Once the door was open, time was of the essence. Phoenix signaled the rush for the server and urged us to hustle.

At the middle of the hall, some sentries could be seen in the back out of optic sensor range; mainly Lokis and nothing more in the area. Still, if these were deployed here numbers were key to know.

Looking for alternative routes... nope!

Moving the drones around led to a better view for all the feed being played to all and having to carry the retrieval team at the back. The added guns are a welcome plus but...

I glanced at Phoenix. "Go Ghost, or go loud?" He glanced back as I unlimbered my now somewhat infamous 'Smart-Gun'. The current generation of Mass-Effected Plasma Wakefield Accelerator was generally more than enough for anything short of a Jiris IFV. The main factor in limiting large scale deployment was its complexity and temperamental nature.

While that was happening, Lion kept manning the drone to deeper parts of the complex, scouting more but finding what could be considered a pity force. Not leaving a half assed job activated the ground pulse and well… that got attention from all parties. A legion of 300 Loki units came running around the entire complex. "Boss... we have a problem..."

Palming his face Phoenix sighed. "Keep it ready; we'll try to be as quiet as we can be but the moment we grab the info be ready to light this joint." Using chained disruptions on the mechs and a rapid dose of buck shot from Raven, the team started to plow to the objective now that the force was revealed.

Lion and Phoenix led our squad through the twists and turns of the abandoned mine. Lion seemed to be doing a solid job of diverting the Lokis to anywhere but where we were. The Ghosts swiftly and efficiently dealt with the few stragglers that managed to stumble onto us. We finally arrived at the entrance to the data center.

Near the server the Ghosts spread wide and prepared the 'exfil-and-boom' for the moment to run. "Ready for the escort; be fast!"

Hans hung back near the Ghosts in case they came under fire and needed medical support, while Juan and I moved up to the terminals. He quickly identified the server stack we needed. I hooked our Macro-USB up and drained the data core dry. It turned out our salvaged core was worlds better even than the Miralano clan could use. A nod from Juan and I repeated the process for three more server blades before I got the indicator that our device was full.

"Got incoming! How's the mining!?" Raven shouted.

I disconnected our device and hooked it to one of my secondary utility arms to be stowed. "Done!" I spun around just as Juan finished rigging a string of thermate and Det-Cord to the terminals. We stacked up behind the Ghosts again as the server room began filling with smoke from liquified computer equipment.

Spraying lead to the bots coming through the left, we did the  **only** sensible thing and lay out the dakka, singing it's beautiful song of rrrrrtttt to a  _ ravaged  _ audience.

**Milky Way/ Hades Gamma/Dis System/Klensal/wastes/outside of former Alludest't robotics complex/ 23:10 hrs 03/25 /2182**

A breaching charge blew a hole in a wall near the south side of the assembly line with us doing a fighting retreat. I was the first to leave the hole and sprint to the LZ before turning to cover the rest while signalling Frans for a hot pickup. The Ghosts and Jawas other half bathed the inside of the breach in lead, plasma and enough explosions to impress an action movie crew.

" _ El Jefe! _ " I yelled out over our comms. "Frans is thirty seconds out!"

" _ Comprendo! Cabrones, vamanos!" _

The team dashed the rest of the way to the LZ while arcs of purple lightning lashed out at the breach. The hole was half filled with wrecked droids when our ride nearly slammed into the ground behind us. The side door swung open and all of Jawa piled in while Foxhound covered us.

Juan barked out, "Phoenix, secure!" The Ghosts rushed onto the shuttle as I played door gunner. The moment Raven hit the hatch closure, Frans began his frantic climb to space. There was a faint flash as our fusion demolition charge eliminated any evidence of the mine ever existing.

Lion cheered for the rest of us as the adrenaline was somewhat spent. Everyone eventually joined in a round of roaring laughter at that close call.

**Milky Way/Krogan DMZ/Nith System/Vard/draneue/space port/20:50 03/25/2182**

Once off the shuttle to the planet, we set out for the safe house in the low income area of the city. We mingled with the rest of the crowd near the lower arm of the station, making sure to not stand out like a sore thumb. We finally made it to the safe house. Inside, we were greeted by Caehan Farajie near the entrance as he typed in a terminal with constant data streams zipping by his face. "Hi sorry if I can't do a proper greeting right now; there is a visitor in the target's house and they seem important enough to rush them through security."

Grunting, we closed the door and made ourselves comfortable in the room. Dropping his boots on the table Joe asked "Who exactly?" We were rewarded by a projection of a very angry asari just leaving the premise and warping a trash bin in the vicinity. "Wow." Joe shook his head. "That is a lot of anger if she just took it out barely out of the gate!"

I had to agree there. "Do we know her?" I committed her face to memory for later.

Farajie supplied "Latest bimbo is what I would call her. But if that is not enough for you beasts, she is one of the partners in the Miralano clan's business. Her name is Ben'sa T'saris; daughter of a prominent matriarch that was part of the diplomatic group tasked with interacting with the Quarian Federation, and a follower of Tevos." He started pulling files up for us. "Also an apparent gold digger if Irajia's notes are accurate. Not a good day to be the side chick."

Taurus snorted "What, did the frog dump her?" He received a nod from our host.

Joe looked puzzled and read the highlights. "Relationship started in 2178... dude's been selected for a breeding contract… Miralano's dalatrass is ill… asari is seen near the bride... first batch of eggs and side chick found out by the bride in no so subtle way, ouch! How is he not pulp?"

That was one bad relationship right there for sure. Shaking my head, I decided to get the topic back on track. "So did the scorned lover do anything of note while there?"

At this he turns to address us "Oh you bet! Listen to this." An audio file played.

" _ Fanin what in Athame's name is this! You are a father and it didn't even occur to you to mention it? _ " -some shifting and knocking follow by a fast collision- " _ What does it have to do with you? I was called by my house to provide to the clan _ ." -a screech " _ It does when my partner doesn't tell me that he has offspring! _ " -a shock is heard- " _ Again what does it have to do with you? You are not part of the clan; the Dalatrass kept a record of the contract from 4 years ago and last month was the fertilization of the eggs, yesterday was supposed to be the day the little ones come to the living. _ " -a heavy thump- _ "Moreover I know about that little exercise with the bouncer at Cora's last week. Did you think I was blind? I'm not keeping a waste of space; I'm leaving for better opportunities now that a couple of avenues have opened on Sur'kesh. Your cloaca isn't that attractive anymore. _ " -a roar followed by a slamming door.

Welp that is not good at  **all** , have to make this nab  **fast!** "When?" Farajie points to a screen that has a shuttle in bay 42E, 5 decks up from us surrounded by mechs. 6 hours from now was noted at the bottom as a countdown.

"Alright  _ gente;  _ grab your gear and prep for a fast snatch!"

Welp snatching duty should be fun to do even if it is a frog deserving of good old  _ inquisisción _ . I wonder how the rest are doing?

**Milky Way/Hades Gamma/Dis System/Klensal/wastes/former Alludest't robotics complex/10:10 hrs 03/26/2182**

"Somebody was snooping around." Asari commando Falil Ateor remarked at the wretched facility which had hosted a surprisingly numerous horde of synthetics, now little more than scrap metal and silicon.

The scenery matched that of a protracted battle. The commando was familiar with the carnage of battlefields, and she was mildly impressed and re-evaluated the piles of scrap littering the field.

Still, an assignment delivered from a counselor was no laughing matter, so finding what went down here was crucial not only for her career, but  _ life  _ if she failed.

She moved her gaze to the group of Eclipse engineers swarming the other perimeter and yelled through the comms. "Hey! Anything there that might help us figure out what happened!?"

A salarian in Eclipse colors responded with the usual 'dry as a desert' tone his species was known for. "Someone willing to use sub-kiloton thermonuclear devices on a," he paused and looked around, " _ garden _ world. Almost no radiation, so probably a fusion device."

He walked over to one of the destroyed mechs. "Weapons damage more telling. Here," he pointed to the severed upper torso of a Loki, "multiple heavy impacts consistent with Krogan or older Human weapons."

Falil sniffed and toed the melted lower half. "Maybe, but  _ that _ sure as hell isn't. That looks more like a Geth Plasma strike."

"Possible, but doubtful." The salarian considered. "Geth particularly reclusive: do not trade with anyone. Possibly salvage? Krogans  _ may _ have scavenged off of Geth. Very few groups could successfully pull off such a raid, though if they had, it would explain effectiveness here."

Falil wanted to spit in frustration, but that would mean opening her helmet. "Alright, salvage what you can of their data-cores. Hopefully we'll luck out and get a look at our competition." She looked over at the collapsed mine entrance. "Whatever they wanted, they didn't want anyone else knowing about."

Oh this promised a headache she just knew it, and it wouldn't be pretty.  _ Athame's ass, please just be a lowlife this time, _ she thought to herself.  _ If not I'll have to ask the Justicars if those dry cunts even deem this worthy of the code. _

An hour later the Eclipse engineers delivered their findings. As expected, it was not pretty. "Is this all you got?"

The same salarian had the  _ honor _ to dumb down the technical report to a simple "Yes. Unless you want a more indepth report." With annoyance she agreed. "Very well. Between the EMP from their sapper charge and whatever plasma weapon they were using, nearly all the optical data was unrecoverable save this image." A garbled hologram of hulking humanoid shapes moving towards the landing platform was displayed.

"We also managed to get a very small burst comm transmission from the group out of one of the mechs that was blown clear of the mine shaft." The speakers played the equally mangled audio. " _ Compre-rones, vama-" _

_ So it was organics and not Geth that leveled the factory. Well  _ that  _ narrows it down. _

In truth, it actually did. Blood Pack and Blue Suns were both ruthless enough to pull something like this off, though they each had their reasons not to. Then there were the various governments. It was just a matter of figuring out who would want what had been here, and that would require knowing what had been kept here in the first place.

This time, she  _ did  _ spit. It looked like she was going to have to spend a couple of bonuses and put in a call to the Shadow Broker. "Alright, we got nothing else here. Let's get off this rock. I've got a call to make."

**Milky Way/Krogan DMZ/Nith System/Vard/draneue/space port/01:50 hrs 03/26/2182**

Alright last touches and... done! Now time to wait for HVT to show up.

I performed one last systems check. "Mike check!"

Taurus replied. "Check!"

"Comm's are fine here!" Joe watched from his vantage point in contact with Farajie tracking the HVT. "Ok here comes the frog surrounded by some mechs in 30 sec."

Alright let's start this show! We moved to place ourselves beneath the shuttle in merc gear, so we didn't have any cloak to hide, sadly. For this op we did have vacuum rated gear, and the extra we brought for what was gonna be a good scare to the fool.

We felt the engines starting, so it was time to board. "Ok, remember to keep the gear sealed and mag holds on the ride out." Once the craft lifted off, our asses were revealed to the automatons and lead started flying in the bay. But too bad for the tin cans, we had hacked the controls from the beginning. So it was 'pedal to the metal' with an upset asshole locked in a ride, with no stops except a change of rides midway to the relay.

I signaled Joe to head inside and grab the frog and Taurus to keep me covered in case of stray debris or intentional shot while I piloted this brick to a safe distance before bailing. We stayed on course to Irajia on a stealth STG shuttle waiting for our jump.

Joe called from the back. "Package secure and ready!"

I sighed. "Good. Be ready for doing a little bit of physics people; we jump in 5...4...3...2...1... Now!" And so into the ever expanding void we went.  _ Breathe in, breathe out, keep a steady pulse and there's our ride out of here _ . Making contact with the grav plate in the corvette, we shuffled the guy to a locked room. For extra misdirection, Joe posted a ransom for the guy in the net. Hopefully no snag was done here… and it just got jinxed didn't it?

**Milky Way/Krogan DMZ/Nith System/Vard/draneue/spaceport/15:50 hrs 03/26/2182**

Falil wanted to tear out her scalp from the news. The salarian that was responsible for the scrap heap in that barren waste had been snached, and now the "Revolutionary Daughters of Selene", whoever the hell they were, were demanding a ransom for his safe return.

Not only that, but the bawling bitch that had been sent to keep eyes on him got involved in the bed and was NOT making this any easier for at all!

"Will you  _ shut the hell up!? _ You're the one that screwed the varen, or in this case, the Salarian." Falil leaned in dangerously. "You had one job, just one; watch the slimey, keep tabs on him."

"Yeah well I was!" Discharging some biotics with the end of that outburst she continued. "And I was also trying to see what was so important. I was going to deliver to the boss by the end of the month, but he just kept the info away from me every time we melded!"

"No shit he was keeping things from you! Any Salarian worth watching is former STG and they  _ fucking know better _ than let state secrets slip in the sheets. What are you, 75?"

"No you dry cunt! I'm 106 so back off and help me find his ass!"

_ She's got spirit alright, _ Falil thought,  _ but that won't help in this moment. _ With few clues and the broker being unusually quiet... what was taking them so long to give her information? Everybody knows the Broker had someone in  **any** place of importance!

*Beep*

_ Huh... well nevermind let's see what group messes with the real power of the counsel… is this a joke? There is barely  _ **_ANYTHING_ ** _ here! No known groups with the tech displayed in Klensal or MO, just garbage! How does a group manage to slip under the broker's grasp? I mean look at their outfits it's distinct for Athame's ass! What with the helmet with external filters!  _ Falil took a deep breath, then turned to Ben'sa. "Brat do you have any idea of how fucked we are at this moment?"

Of course the cunt won't even know how bad it is by the answer. "Yes we're going to be sent to the huntresses camp for revaluation."

*smack*

"Bitch we are gonna be used as target practice for the Justicars at the minimum!"  _ Now the stakes made it to this little brat! _ "Now help me find the slimy waste of breath and pray to Athame, cause we sure need the goddess' grace now!"

*beep*

Falil paled at the sight of the caller id, and like a resigned inmate in death row responded to Tevos visage in her tool's screen. "Counselor how pleasant to see you."

Her expression not showing anything was a bad sign already. "Falil dear, I was expecting to hear good news by now from you... so what do you have so far in this assignment?"

Sighing for the lack of progress being done so far, she sent what little she had along the broker's list of suspects or lack of by the size of the file.

After some time on the line the head and representative of the most powerful race in the galaxy finally spoke. "This makes me quite disappointed in you Falil, truly I was expecting more … but oh well what has been done is done as the humans say."

That didn't bode well for her one bit. "I want you and that young screw up of a Maiden Ben'sa with you to this location and await further orders... I have some calls to make." Ending the call that way left some truly dreadful atmosphere in her wake.

_ Oh goddess please have some pity for me and help get through this mud filled swamp to calmer waters. _

Looking back at the frightened child she said, "You heard the boss; pack your belongings and move!"

**Milky Way/Annos Basin/Pranas System/Halegeuse/Aifa/11:50 hrs 03/30/2182**

Jawa and Foxhound were crammed into the back of the formerly Turian shuttle. Unsurprising for such militaristic people, the shuttle was almost ideal for small unit transfers, so the nine strong team would fit well, if it weren't for the bulk of their equipment: demolitions gear, heavy weapons and hardsuits, and the portable data core now only having the program cypher.

All of this was in locked cases. Foxhound were in low-aspect armor of private security, while Jawa was dressed as technical support.

Schultz had worked his dark magic on Fannin and the group now knew the precise location of the data they needed, both in the building and in the system, so far no complications in the insertion of our merry band of thieves.

"Anybody else have the feeling we have it easy so far in?" Taurus piped up once they were out of customs.

Juan thumped his head on the seat back. " _ Gracias señor _ , for  _ jinxing _ this operation."

Leo just shook his head. " _ No empieces a joder cabrón con tu actitud, por favor. _ Ok wanna know something useful for this place? It has a nice and I mean  **really** nice atmospheric shielding protecting our sorry hides from being turned medium rare, so be glad for it beefcake."

Raven spoke in a mocking tone. "Leave it Honey; this oaf is just looking for the slaughter house. Oh such a shame, he had so much to look forward to!" She finished with a flush of hair swinging her head.

Hiram was going over the building map one more time. "Looks like Atmo-control is collocated in the data center." He glanced at Phoenix and Juan. "We could cause quite the stir once we have what we need; send everyone scurrying for storm shelters while we stroll out with the prize."

Frans came over the intercom. "Ladies and gentlemen, we are beginning our final descent. Please place your tray tables and machine guns in their upright and stowed position."

Everyone made sure they were braced, as the two team leaders glanced at each other. "We'll consider it an option. For now, focus on reaching the objective." Phoenix did a quick check of his personal barrier as he said this.

Hiram nodded and highlighted the base's Computer-cooling control room, located directly over the data-center. Leo added a bit more to the surrounding area by indicating the security level and response time from the colony's minimum numbers of salarians in the vicinity of the objective. Lion put the finishing touches, patching the group through the radio of said security along with a kill switch for the chatter that would grant them some 20 minutes of leaway.

Phoenix reviewed the parameters one last time to make sure it stuck with the teams, "Ok people, 5 mikes to insertion. Remember we are to grab the info as fast as humanly possible and run out of here. This is the salarians home system so we are already on thin ice here; I don't wanna end in a frog's version of a gulag, so stay focused!"

The shuttle touched down and we departed in good order. Hans and Frans stayed with the shuttle, while Phoenix dealt with the inevitable administrative graft. The Salarians looked at us with general disdain; we were here to fix the AC, so how important could we possibly be. We passed a small entourage of Mercs in Eclipse colors arguing with a customs agent.

Leo had an easy smile as he glanced back at Juan and Hiram. "See  _ huevones,  _ this is why you pay your bribes on time and in full."

Phoenix noticed one of the Asari Eclipse look at the group oddly as they passed. "Heads on a swivel people, we may have been made." Everyone tensed as they left the hangar area. "Consider us on the clock now."

The map showed that they needed to head to the sub-basement of a building three blocks away. Phoenix slapped a small device onto a parked aircar as he passed. It would allow him to remote recall the craft to him with the push of a button.

The two GST teams made their way to the civic building that housed the secret Miralano database. Every step brought more tension and everyone was sweating bullets by the time they arrived in the lobby, though that could simply have been the humidity.

The two groups were waved through once Phoenix flashed their papers, and they headed into the elevator. They unlocked the cases on the way down, but left them closed until they had reached the HVAC room. Lion triggered a setting on the comm-kill switch. "Alright boys and girl," Raven shot him a cross look, "we have 20 minutes!"

Everyone popped open the cases, and after all of the practice runs on Zonness, were kitted up and cutting through the floor in less than two minutes.

Falil wasn't sure at first.

She'd only heard a snippet of the language from that salvaged recording, and the word she'd heard from the passing human was only  _ similar.  _ But when every Salarian security officer started fiddling with their comms at the same time, she was sure of it; the humans who had strolled past her were the same group that had hit the mine in the Dis system!

"Okay, play-time's over." She biotically threw the customs officer to the side. "Ladies, we're on mission  _ right now _ !" Every member of her Commando Squad unlimbered their weapons. "By order of Councilor Tevos of the Asari Republics, under General Order 12 of the Citadel Accords, we are declaring a general emergency." She locked eyes with the local security head. "Get in our way and die."

The Salarians wisely parted, and her squad moved through to the building the Shadow Broker told her was the likely objective. She didn't actually  _ have _ Tevos' authority to act here; the old bint was fixated on some, "Revolutionary Daughters of Selene" supposedly working with Aria T'Loak. Goddess help her if she ever got that kind of tunnel vision when she became a matriarch.

It wouldn't take the Miralano's long to figure out what the real threat was, and when that happened, no amount of legal bluffs were going to save her from a mass-effect round through her skull.

Cutting through the floor was another two minute task. Taurus and Raven dropped a pair of flash-bang grenades, and then leapt in after them. There was a short, very wet sounding altercation with the security and technical crew. "All clear." Raven shouted through the hole.

The rest of Foxhound remained in the HVAC room while Juan and I got to work with the computer. The process was actually easier than any of our practice runs, and we had the data before our timer reached 10 minutes.

Juan yelled up the hole. "Phoenix, we have the data. Are we hitting the shield system?"

"Considering there's somebody coming down to meet you, I'd vote yes!" We could hear the elevator coming down now.

"Hiram, lock it!"

I nodded and headed to the elevator doors. I fabricated a pair of hard, very sharp-pointed bars with my industrial Omni, and just as the elevator reached our floor I jammed them into the tops of the doors near the walls. They tried to open, and I could just see the tell-tale sign of biotics through the gap. "Time to go,  _ El-Jefe _ !"

"Done!" He stepped back and opened up on the terminal and server stacks with his SMG. We both went up through the hole, followed by Raven and Taurus just before there was a tearing sound of the elevator doors slowly being ripped apart by the biotic inside.

Juan rigged a Claymore to IR lasers just over the hole, and we climbed into the elevator shaft.

We were scaling up when the mine went off, and had just reached the ground floor when a shrieking banshee of an Asari in Eclipse armor stepped onto the roof of the elevator and opened up with an SMG.

Lion promptly dropped a grenade which sent the Commando ducking back into the room.

Not that it did much aside from taking a hard blow to her barriers and snatching Leo's helmet in the process of throwing a stasis field at us from where she was; it was a good thing he had a balaclava on before hitting the deck from that grab.

Falil had to grab something from these scum to save her ass from the reprisals that no doubt will follow this debacle, although that was the least of worries right now. Part of the colony shielding was compromised and radiation was leaking into the surrounding area. and consciousness was leaving her fast…

She just hoped the bastards got cooked along with that brat for this shit they made her go through, at least she will live but wasn't sure for how long...

It was a target rich environment, that was for sure.

Once we had high tailed it out of the elevator shaft, we had mechs on the left, asari commandos on the right, back against a wall and front and center eclipse mercs being brought low by the heat and overloading and taxing their shields.

It was prime for the hail of slug fire coming their way courtesy of our guns and friendly fire from turrets in the perimeter.

We opted for a fighting retreat as we neared the exfil point, and waited for the shuttle to pass by and cake the area with the modified yeet cannon I had rigged up.

Leo was debating what was more useful in enclosed spaces: super shotgun base hail of sand cannon or plasma wave of doom until they sequence the thing to shoot the plasma first and then with the heat from said release propel the grains and mines to the sods with depleted shields.

"Hiram!" I looked over at Phoenix as he activated his Omni. "When it's over the Op-For, hit it with your cannon!"

I was puzzled for a moment until I saw an air car coming directly towards us. The moment it was in position, I blasted the lifting system and dropped it on a small Commando Team near the street's intersection.

The failure of the mass core caused half a tonne of metal to drop on top of them. We didn't wait to see how effective it was, as the Banshee was coming up behind us fast.

She biotically lifted a nearby air car and was about to fling it at us, when Hans and Frans arrived on station, belly gun blazing.

This sent the remainder of the Mercs and Salarians ducking for cover.

It was a mad dash to load everyone onto the shuttle as nearly every gun-toting alien on the planet came out from cover. But it was too late, as we were already accelerating hard for space before even shutting the shuttle door.

**Milky Way/Annos Basin/Pranas System/Halegeuse/Aifa/ 16:10 hrs 03/31/2218**

"Vepus Lothram reporting live from the site of a massive radiation leak from the center of the colony's Mirallano's robotics and mining building and surroundings. Local forces were attacked by a group funded by what authorities have found to be the Revolutionary Daughters of Selene. We don't know the identity or nature of this group, but so far they seem to be an asari group operating in the terminus systems, presumably under the pirate queen herself.

"So far, the head of the colony's security has made no statements confirming the allegations so we will keep in touch with the people managing the investigation. This is Vepus Lothram, from Citadel News Network (CNN) and stay tuned for updates in this case."

**In transit/spirit of fire/D-deck/command center/10:36 hrs/05/30/2182 CE**

Schultz stood in front of the combined teams. "First, I would like to congratulate you all in a job remarkably well done, despite the time constraints. However, given the collateral damage, some of the places being turned to slag by what the CNN are covering, and the use of Aria as a front is somewhat harmful for our goals in the long run."

Phoenix stepped forward. "Thank you sir glad we got out of there with some bruises and minor injuries "

"Don't mention it; you all have earned some shore leave and R&R." He tapped at the console, scrolling through the data collected by us and being sifted by R&D. He gazed at our lot. "And as a way to let this cooldown so you have time, head down to the medics for post op bio check." He chuckled at the end.

Leo sulked. "Yay… more needles... Why are we still using needles? Why?"

Juan stood and rolled his shoulders. "Quit bitching and get this done so we can get out of here. There's a pick-up game in Vehicle Bay three, and I want on the roster."

I heaved myself out of my chair. "Beats using air guns. I just want this done quick so I can catch the next shuttle to Benning. Kalla's been asking for me to visit, and I definitely think I've earned it."

Phoenix started towards the medical section. "Looking for some blue ass?" Everyone chuckled at the look I shot the Ghost. "Second that, so long as this muscle head doesn't antagonise Heliix when I'm not looking! It's hard enough to find a good meat shield in these parts."

Leo followed his commander while waving at Jawa. "Hey if any of you ever goes to Sigil I'll buy you a beer, it's on me!"

**In transit/spirit of fire/B-deck/habitation-Leo's crew quarters/15:36 hrs/05/30/2182 CE**

Once done with medical I was ready to sink in the comfort of a plush bed. On my way to the arms of Morpheus for some well-earned rest I met Raven arms crossed with her back against the wall near the door to my cabin. "Hey, so the medics free you too?"

She walked up to me. "Yeah, so far no complications. Just cosmetic as the worst from our little adventure."

Mmm... that was a rather clipped answer… "What's with the sentry at my door anyway?"

Passing me, she turned around and spoke. "Just checking if you were free from medical as well. Up for some sparing?"

I palmed the door's control. "Maybe later. I was going to catch some z's. Perhaps in, I don't know-" I brought up my tool's screen, "- four or six hours in the bay-" being interrupted by a pair of claws clamping at my arms and a set of teeth at the tip of the tail making me shiver; dragging me inside my room as the light are quite dim barely illuminating the outline of the individual behind me.

Purring from her place at the doorway Raven went on grabbing something from the side near her. "Oh don't worry that spar will be done  _ soon~ _ " Closing and locking the door to drop her garments and strap something with a *click* on her heading my way. "Just relax and let's enjoy some  _ exercise  _ together."

"Do note that when I'm free you will pay..." I was making that an empty threat given my current situation… and oh fuck that tongue is really distracting me...

Closing in on me she leaned and breathed near my ear "Oh~, I'm sure of that; but can you wait for a bit?" She asked with an actual feathery touch. "I'm in need of some good  _ bites  _ from my kitten~" She sat on my lap, drenching it a bit.

_ Welp I'm so boned... _

**Milky Way/Athena/Thessia/Unknown location/20:02 hrs/05/30/2182 CE**

Falil had not been a happy camper ever since this shit assignment had been pushed on her, without mentioning the scars running down her left flank and near her ass. All she had to show for it was leaving that carnage alive with some form of info on the mysterious group; the only salvageable thing was a helmet that one of those "merc's" left behind in the heat of battle before she was kicked down the elevator shaft.

Now there was this hearing by some matriarchs that she knows little of…

"Commando Falil Ateor please step forward in the chamber." Being put on the spot light, she couldn't see any of their faces. "How do you plead for this failing?"

Taking a deep breath. "I am not guilty of any failing, renowned matriarch; just a victim to the goddess' fate." She stood as straight as she could.

"We will determine that commando," spoke Tevos, "for you have failed in a spectacular way. The STG is combing the entire colony and Miralano's holdings, no doubt to seize the assets from rival families." Taking a moment to parse through the data. "You also lost the valuable intel on this so called Daughters of Selene."

Knowing if she didn't diffuse that line of inquiry now she wouldn't leave here in any semblance of aliveness, she spoke. "With all due respect honored matriarchs and Counselor, this so-called maiden group is nothing more than a smoke screen for the real perpetrators of this heist."

"Mmh... and how could you tell it is not a declaration by foolish maidens not knowing how to respect their betters? Please do tell." Tevos said, almost sneering as she talked.

Bringing the most memory from the cam in the helmet she grabbed from one of the humans. "As you can see, the way they fought with the Eclipse mercs and myself, as well the deceased Ben'sa T'saris, their MO was to cause as much mayhem along their exit. It almost seems to be a way of ego boosting as can be heard clearly form this recording."

She played the file while turning up the volume. (Agents of Mayhem Franchise Force Theme (OST)) ...  _ Agents of mayhem~ _ ... "We are either dealing with a delusional group of gun-nuts, or some very competent and unknown mercs. Every indication is that this particular team is responsible for three, closely timed, and closely related strikes. My bet's on them being competent unknowns"

Tevos winced at the noise coming out of the helmet. "All this proves is that Aria's Revolutionary Daughters have the presence of mind to use mercenary proxies. Unless you are implying you were out played by mere humans?"

Falil locked eyes with the Matriarch. "If so, then you were, and still are." There was a murmur and the sound of nervous static discharges. "Aria is furious at being accused. Not getting on stage and railing like a Batarian politician, but commissioning Mercs to hunt down whoever is framing her. I should know; she contacted me directly. The Daughters of Selen is a ruse, and if you're two fixated on this tit-measuring contest with her to see you're being played..."

Tevos slammed her fists onto the table. "Insolent little bitch! You will show me respect or in Athame's name I will-"

"You will do nothing in the Goddess' name, Counselor." The room froze as the lone Justicar in the room stood. "You are a servant of the Goddess and a representative of her daughters,  _ not _ the adjudicator of her laws. That is the remit of  _ my _ order."

It took nearly all of Falil's willpower not to whimper as Matriarch Samarra turned her full attention on her. "I too have received... interesting intelligences of late, and I would speak to young Mistress Falil. Alone."

Being dismissed by the rest, she followed Samarra to an empty room and listened. "Child, I must say your view holds merit in the way you stood. But if there is one thing I will caution, it is how you respond to your elders."

Lowering her head "Understood matriarch, but it doesn't change the facts," she looked at her and continued, "And if the counselor was offended by the truth, it is not my fault."

Relaxing, the matriarch placed a hand on her. "Child, I'll say this once and expect an answer from you."

Falil asked in an even tone, "And that would be, honored matriarch?"

"There have been some new clues regarding the 'demons', and assistance in such endeavors would free you from these unfortunate events."

Falil paled after hearing that admission. "In what capacity should my help be placed in such efforts, if I may ask?"

"Merely that you forward and confirm the information provided to me in the field hunting any unfortunate child of the goddess."

_ So I'm either fucked now and die by a dry cunt of an old fish, or in the field behind a Justicar quest… until I find a way to run and hide… well not much of a choice really. _

"I'd be honored to contribute to your cause matriarch." She said with a painfully fake smile; she would live for another day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ThePilotArchangel has extended the invitation to any fans of his story to participate. Simply go to his page on FF.net https://www.fanfiction.net/u/8343608/ThePilotArchangel and message him


	10. Ghost Team: Foxhound aftermath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nomad was not the first Traveler to be dumped into this Alternate Mass Effect Universe. And he most certainly will not be the last; these are the stories and adventures of the future and current members of the Systems Alliance Group for Specialized Tactics (GST).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The following stories are written as authorized expansions on ThePilotArchangel's "A Ghost and a Specter" story. This particular chapter is written by "mp07".

**Written by fan MP07**

I open my eyes little by little to acclimatize the view to the incandescent light on my face, blinking less and less after removing part of the lizards that cover the ends of the eyelids I notice that it is a room with medical equipment, expansive and with a person resting in a chair located near the door with a rifle and ghost bandana ...

Well, I'm in a safe place at least for now. I keep checking the room in silence and after making sure it is not a trap I sit still letting my head rest on the pillow and let out a sigh of relief.

My "guard" is apparently a member of the light-sleepy group, shaking his head assessing that nothing happened in his rest period when at the mere sign of drowsiness he should at least notify someone for the guard relay, focus on my person and finally decides to move his hands to the radio built into the helmet.

After a few minutes playing the gazes, the door opens and lets a group of GST operators enter the room and the leader of the pack brings back memories to me when he removes the bottom mask leaving his face in view of the occupants of the area their stoic poses maintain when they see me.

"Joe"

I look with some anger at my former partner and competition in the area of improvised explosives in the GST given the crap in which we put a defective charge in one of our deployments to Beckstein, the mark of our obvious paw in the corner of the jaw barely visible.

"Leo ... I see that you keep snooping where it doesn't suit you"

At that moment all I could do was respond with as much sarcasm as possible to such a rough welcome.

"Have you had a good time thinking about that answer, isn't it?"

Joe for his part did not respond to the offense and continues "leave the attitude and lie down that from what I see it seems that you started to kiss a vorcha and decided to go from one to one to an orgy of the damn things"

oooooohhhhh now I want to fuck this fag as you cannot imagine.

"FUCK OFF  _ PENDEJO _ ! I HAD A MEAT HOOK NEARLY CLIPPING ME IN THE DICK!"

He and two others flinch at that image

_ Deep breaths, inhale and exhale… I'm calm... I'm calm… _

"Unfortunately you are not so far from the truth..." I took a breath as my memories came back to me. Ugly images flashing through my mind as I spoke. "I was with Lion following a target suspected of being one of the smugglers responsible for supplying EA with current military equipment when we had to retire to the house of security due to an alert from Phoenix that we had unusual activities near it and only part of a conversation could be obtained involving a new order of last generation armament taken from special operations in the alliance."

At the end of that sentence, the tension in the room became denser and part of the group seemed to have an unpleasant face as if they had been hit in the stomach with a bat in the way in which their postures subtly changed.

"When we regrouped, part of the commotion that had worried Phoenix had calmed down somewhat; and we had an hour of tranquility that we used to check all of the equipment brought in incase we were discovered... and it turns out that we saved some hours of life with that action."

"How did you get caught?" Joe asked, writing on a piece of paper.

"I honestly do not know, one second I was just checking my equipment; then the next second everything was exploding. Then I heard someone scream,  _ 'Allah Ackbar' _ and everything went dark. I guess they knocked me out with one of their suicide bombers."

The silence reigned for a while, no one really wanting to say anything, only to be broken again by Joe.

"Well I got some bad news for you. The doctors here tell me you are gonna need months of rehab for all the damage sustained, and if there isn't any complication maybe reinstated for active duty." He told me.

I felt my anger boil up within me, "Yeah... fuck that I'm going for my gear once i can walk to a ship for my pad" I growled in reply.

"Look I would like to have you as well in the fight; but as far as I can see, you are in NO condition to help whatsoever." He stated firmly.

I sighed and asked for an omnitool, bringing up the schematics of one of the last things I wanted to see; and judging from the gasps from the other members in the medical wing in the  _ Spirit of Fire _ , it was something they did not desire to see either.

"What the fuck is this, and when did you have it?" asked one of the members of the peanut gallery

Looking at the device, or more accurately, the suit and its functions being displayed; I couldn't blame them for the reaction to the closest thing me and the R&D wing have come to a reactive ceramic Nano-weave and Spartan augmentations for the fire teams frontline that could be safely administered.

I still remember Dr. Heliix's face when we were testing and prototyping.

Feeling the annoyance and bitter resentment from my situation I blow up at this point, unable to contain my frustration any longer. "dude I have been tampering with a good deal of gray zone research in between missions and I was hoping to at least developed an actual harmonizer, in case I failed to make a cheap nanosuit for us. but I have to settle for this now that the damn assholes went a wrench MY GODDAMN DRONE FOR THE FOURTH TIME WHEN I FINALLY HAD IT RUNNING 95% SLUG HAILSTORM ! DO YOU KNOW HOW HARD IT WAS TO GET THE THING TO SUPPRESS, BOMBARD, NAPALM, POISON, DISRUPT AND SLICE AT THE SAME TIME A BETWEEN 50 MAN HORDE OF RELIGIOUS MAMA EGGS THAT DO NOT KNOW ANYTHING MORE THAN BEING A ROPE OF LIKELY READY FOR THE KILLER!? AND JUST WHEN IT COULD NOT GET BETTER YOU KNOW WHAT THE MARICOS MADE THESE!?" I take off the cover of the part of the waist and display in full view to the visitors the lacerations from the waist to the most prominent ankles among all is the mark near the inner area of the right thigh, the scars on the coccyx and spine where I was staying part of the tail control mechanisms that were part of my insurance. "They put me in the same as the other four. They hung Al-Asad right in front of me! They made me watch as they raped Dragoness over and over! They used my head as an ashtray while carving me and the others up like an American Thanksgiving Turkey!"

_ BEEPBEEPBEEP! _ My heart monitor was going crazy as I tried to calm down somewhat; my anger causing me to slip into Spanish.

I glared at my visitors as I try to rebuild my sanity,  _ breathe come on breathe  _ I told myself.

"... Zandria was there… when I was recovering part of my stamina after the last round of thrashing to my chest she entered with someone who did not recognize the group of eggs that jumped us, the guy was a black man, Very tall in one of those suits that you see so commonly in there you know like the one in undina with an angular chin, long brown hair, flattened nose and hazel eyes; that made me look bad as soon as I entered with her." Joe looked at me with pity when he heard the name of one of the civilians we took out of that piece of shit called Tajicstan under the excuse of humanitarian aid from the hands of the troops of both sides.

_ BEEPBEEPBEEP!  _ The instruments that captured my heartbeats shrieked again given the excitement of my current condition.

_ calm, calm, calm, breathe, breathe...  _ I ordered.

_ Beep…Beep…Beep… _

"Look… I don't want to talk about what they did while I was their host you want the info I barely managed to bring back or not?"

"...fine, what did you got out of it?" he sighed.

Making myself as comfortable as I could, I laid down the bad news.

"Aside of EA plans to mount an charge at the citadel right after our loses on Eden prime part of their troops were been move to somewhere in council space wasn't able to dig the exact location to the Maroon sea cluster; two someone in acquisitions either lost or fuck up badly cuz a crate of 20 Skell Tech Magnetic Coil-Chemical Projectile Sniper Rifle was handed from one of our bases in the terminus to the damn Abn Awaa… you know The Jackal.

I found that he was once a part of the men that served in the Systems Alliance, judging by the chitchat of the grunts when he pass by the freezer, it goes as usual; a young man helping to bring his family honor and wealth, excelling and even being selected for N-school and making it to N1. But then the whole mess with the blitz happened..."

facepalms people... facepalms for the idiot politicians all around...

"And lastly we have a serious problem given that one of our experimental charges for the Shiva class nukes reserved for sovereign is in their possession"

Nobody said nothing after that particular bit, the former tension has return and the only thing that cross all of my audience was a string of profanity to the news.

"So yeah help me get out of this room there is work to be done and we don't have time to dick around" that did the trick and got us to start addressing the coming shitstorm...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ThePilotArchangel has extended the invitation to any fans of his story to participate. Simply go to his page on FF.net https://www.fanfiction.net/u/8343608/ThePilotArchangel and message him.


	11. Normandy SR-1, where are you?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nomad was not the first Traveler to be dumped into this Alternate Mass Effect Universe. And he most certainly will not be the last; these are the stories and adventures of the future and current members of the Systems Alliance Group for Specialized Tactics (GST).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The following stories are written as authorized expansions on ThePilotArchangel's "A Ghost and a Specter" story. This particular chapter is part of a series written by ThePilotArchangel.

**New Kurdistan; Systems Alliance-Triple Alliance Border Fleet HQ**

Rear Admiral Mikhailovich sat behind his desk with a heavy scowl on his face; glaring at Admiral Hackett's orders on his omnitool.

He always hated how his flotilla had been relegated to what essentially amounted to border Patrol; and spying on the Batarians and the Islamic Triple Alliance, and keeping their incursions into the independent systems in check.

New Kurdistan was friendlier to the Alliance than her neighbors, and allowed an Embassy and a Small Alliance naval base to be built and maintained here. But it was a backwards posting for the most part; at least until recently.

_ KnockKnockKnock! _

"Come in." the Admiral called out, expecting to see the woman that had become the target of his ire as of late; instead he found one of the few officers truly loyal to him walking into his office.

"Ah Senior Lt. King; I trust you received the news?" He asked.

"Yes sir and I came here to ask you to reconsider your orders." The man replied, his face schooled to look calm and composed, but the Admiral could see the beginnings of despair form on his face.

Mikhailovich just sighed and shook his head, turning off his omnitool and grabbing some files from his desk; even in this day and age, paper copies were mandatory for all officers to fill out. "I'm sorry King, I would love to throw the bone your way; but I've gotten direct orders from Admiral Hackett… Send Shepard." He replied.

King winced and clenched his fists; "Sir I don't get it, the  _ Arracourt SR-3 _ has a perfect record and Shepard… Why you won't even let her gang of Aliens, Pirates, and Army Spooks moor at the base." He insisted.

The Admiral snorted; "Command wants to reward them for tracking down that EA prowler."

"But sir, you and I both know that Shepard and her crew wouldn't have even found the thing if they hadn't been on that moonlight cruise and setting off all of those fireworks for Halloween night." King protested.

Mikhailovich grunted in reply; "Yes well… it seems as if command only judges by results."

_ KnockKnock! _

"Come in!" The Admiral called.

Shepard walked in, wearing her officers jumpsuit; "Good morning Admiral; Lt. Commander Jahenne Shepard reporting as ordered sir." She turned to King with a big smile on her face, "Hiya King!"

King rolled his eyes as soon as she looked away; while Mikhailovich leaned forward onto his desk, "Nice of you to finally join us Shepard." He growled.

"Sorry I'm late sir, but I thought I should wash up first; had a very long night Admiral." She replied, scratching at her bun while she tucked her cover under her arm.

"Oh I know, I hear it was quite the poker game." He replied sarcastically.

"Oh it was a son of a bitch sir;" She replied cheerfully, "King you should have been there, I had three aces and Major Lee-"

"Commander." Mikhailovich said sternly, "Do you know why I sent for you?" He asked.

"Well… quite frankly no sir." Shepard admitted, losing a little bit of her good cheer.

"I'm sending you and the SR-1 to Arcturus with the bi-monthly Black Op's reports." He stated, looking like he had just swallowed a lemon doing so.

Shepard's smile brightened even further; "Arcturus sir? Aw thank you Admiral. HA! Good old rest and relaxation, I know my boys and girls could use some." She exclaimed elbowing King, who pointedly ignored her.

Mikhailovich stood up and walked over to a nearby filing cabinet; opening it and grabbing a think file folder from inside it. "Don't thank me Shepard; if it were up to me I would have your crew out on the border, polishing mines." He growled as he shoved the file into her hands. "It was Admiral Hackett's idea." He stated, walking over to a nearby window.

King couldn't bring himself to stay silent any longer and asked, "Just what do you have on the Admiral that he treats as such?"

Shepard just shrugged, "I guess he just recognizes talent is all." She replied with a light chuckle before she turned to Mikhailovich, "Well I guess I'd run along now sir; goodbye Admiral!" She said, walking out the door after giving a quick salute.

Mikhailovich leaned against the window to his office with a loud sigh; "Cheer up King, they could always run into a Wormhole."

The 30 Navy crew members of the  _ Normandy SR-1 _ stood around in a big circle in the middle of their mini-base on the planet; Most of them yelling at a small cluster of the crew in the center.

The Alien Special Forces Liaisons assigned to the Normandy; which consisted of, Quarian Marines, STG, Asari Commandos, Turian Blackwatch, Army GST Fireteam Kingslayer, and the rest of the Normandy ground team just stood nearby in a semi-circle.

"I think Shepard will just rip their heads off." The SF Commander, Major August Lee speculated as he watched the five Sailors in the center of the cluster stand there and take the screaming and yelling by their comrades like champs.

"Maybe biotically boil their brains." Wrex added.

"Hey, Shepard's coming!" Tali exclaimed, sounding like she was about to start hyperventilating; catching everyone's attention.

August placed a hand on her shoulder, "don't worry; she can't blame you for something that you didn't do." He stated, before turning to the rest of the gaggle of Sailors. "Alright you knuckleheads, now you're really gonna get it." He said coldly, before everyone rushed the entrance ramp for shuttles.

The Kodiak landed, and Shepard hopped out; grinning a mile away, she gave a quick wave to the pilot who took off in a rush. "Hey everyone! Have I got some great news for you!" She exclaimed, before looking at their makeshift dry-dock; "Hey where's the boat? She getting some maintenance?" She asked, a little confused.

Joker hobbled into the front of the group; "Well skipper…. Not exactly…" He started.

"How about you tell us your news, and we'll tell you ours." Chief Addams said cryptically.

Either she failed to read the atmosphere, or she just flat out ignored it; Shepard kept her happy expression, "Well have I got some good news for y'all; as fast as you can get your gear packed, we'll be leaving for a little vacation for Arcturus station, and then Earth!" She exclaimed with a happy laugh.

The whole crew, even Wrex and Aethyta winced visibly; no one wanted to burst the Commanders bubble. She was always so happy and optimistic; it made everyone feel like they were kicking a puppy whenever they had to break bad news to her.

Of course, they also feared that her puppy like mannerisms would change to that of a rabid wolf.

Jane noticed everyone's expressions and her smile fell a little bit, "Well I don't get it, what's wrong guys? I thought you would be jumping for joy at news like this." She asked.

"I'm afraid we won't be going on that vacation Ell Cee." August said coolly.

Janes smile had fallen away completely now; "What are you talking about?" She asked, the temperature of her voice dropping with every syllable.

"It's because of them!" Williams exclaimed, pointing at Colt, Reegar, Donnelly, Daniels, and Alenko.

"Go on lover boys and girl; tell the skipper why we're not goin anywhere." Archer snapped angrily.

Jane slowly stepped forward to the five crewmembers, while everyone else stepped back to isolate the petulant SF operators and engineers. "Yeah… tell me." She stated.

The five of them shifted and looked at each other before looking back at Shepard; after a long moment, Alenko said; "We lost the boat."

Shepard blinked; "Come again… you what?" She asked, utterly flabbergasted.

"We lost the boat…" Reegar answered looking down at his two toed feet.

Shepard looked between the five of them before bursting out laughing; "oh man, that's a good joke; now what are ya playing at?" She asked.

"They're telling the truth Shepard, they lost the ship." Tali squeaked, hiding behind August in anticipation of the volcanic eruption that was due to take place.

Shepard blinked before saying; "We're not talking about our good old shuttle right? We're talking about our great, big, expensive, stealth frigate; the one with the words  _ Normandy SR-1  _ on it?" She demanded.

"We lost it…" Colt replied, wincing.

"How the hell could you lose it? When! Where!?" Shepard exclaimed. "Were you all gambling? Did EA blow it up on your watch?"

"No! No… it was unavoidable; you know how a person loses something." Daniels started.

"We just set her down somewhere and we… couldn't find it again." Donnelly finished.

"But this ship happens to be 155 meters long, with dozens of tracking and homing beacons, and is painted bright white, and weighs over 10,000 kilograms!" Jane retorted, utterly dumbfounded.

"Go on you Romeo's and Juliet, tell her the whole story!" Garrus snarled out.

Jane looked at her boyfriend for a moment before looking back at the five crewmen.

"Well…" Colt started.

"Last night we were all feeling kind of restless; everyone else was off the ship grabbing supplies or resting up on the offshore hotels, and the five of us were on watch last night." Alenko said.

"And there was an integrated village of both humans and aliens; cleanrooms too…" Reegar continued. "But we couldn't technically leave the boat in the dry-dock unattended, so we took it with us."

"We disabled all the trackers, activated the cloak and stealth systems, and parked her somewhere in the mountains beside the village." Daniels picked up.

"And uh… we decided to go and have a little bit of a mini-R and R break since we didn't know we would be leaving today." Donnelly stated.

"Well after we parked the boat, we made sure the cloak was on so that no one in orbit could see it; and we went down to the village and started to go around and go drinking and partying and hang out with some women of the night." Alenko said, looking ashamed.

"I was supposed to be the designated driver, but everyone kept pushing beers into my face, so I just gave in and got drunk like the rest of them." Daniels admitted. "After a bit, we realized it was approaching morning, so we decided to head back to the ship…"

Reegar shifted on his feet; "Commander, you know what the mountain ranges here are like at night while you're drunk." He exclaimed.

Jane shook her head, her baffled expression still not leaving her face; "No… what is it like at night while your drunk?" She asked only slightly sarcastic.

"Well… it's… its dark." Colt supplied. "Pretty soon, we realized none of us remembered which mountain we parked it on, and it was too dark for us to make our way back. We finally found a nearby road; and hitched a ride from a friendly farmer back to here…"

"And that's… how we… lost the boat." Alenko finished.

Jane slowly nodded and turned away; "I just… felt that it couldn't be too easy to lose a light frigate." She finally said.

All five gulped, before Donnelly exclaimed; "It wasn't easy at all skipper, the insects and all the mud and shit on the roads-" he started before Shepard stormed up to him, her biotics flaring with barely restrained fury.

"NOW LOOK HERE YOU WASHED UP ROMEO!" She roared, everyone stepping back in fear as she yelled; "You are going to go back to that village, and you are all going to go search every single mountain that's big enough to hold her; get local police, anything! But you don't come back here without my ship!" Then she turned to the rest of the crew, "My ground team and SF leaders stay here; everyone ELSE!" Everyone jumped, "You go with them! And make it fast! Now get going!"

August and Tali tossed another roll of camo netting over to the other side of the giant tarp the group had set up. Wrex, Aethyta, Liara, and Shepard Biotically lifted whole squares into place; while Williams caught the piece of netting Tali and August had just thrown.

Phil and Archer checked the ropes and knots keeping their little deception tied to the ground; making sure that none of them were bad. Captain Kirrahe was just muttering to himself about how there was no way that their idea was going to work, and had already resigned himself to getting relegated to backwater duties or forced retirement.

"I still think that it'll work…" Liara started uncertainly.

"If any brass comes nosing about, they won't know the difference." Garrus retorted confidently as he lashed another rope down.

"If Mikhailovich or anyone else finds out about this; they'll hang us by our thumbs from the nearest yard arm." August pointed out.

Tali looked at her three fingered hand and twitched her thumbs; gulping.

Jane went to grab another piece of camo-netting; and then happened to glance in the direction of the main base, and saw her worst nightmare. "Oh no!" She exclaimed, as she spied the Admiral's personal shuttle approaching their temporary station.

Everyone quickly gathered around her, looking panicked; "Leave it to Mikhailovich to smell trouble a mile away!" Archer hissed, all the color draining from her tanned face.

"Never liked short thumbs anyway." Wrex stated.

"Quick, everyone go act like you're doing something important; act natural and chat it up while I go meet him." Shepard ordered.

Everyone did just that, huddling near their housing units or by the camo netting to help cover it up; while Jane speed walked to the platform the Admiral had stepped off his shuttle.

"Admiral sir!" She said giving a quick salute.

Mikhailovich saluted back, looking surprised to see her; "Shepard your still here?" he asked, recovering quickly, and started walking down towards the tarp.

"Just making some last minute preparations sir." Shepard replied.

"Hmm… I would have expected you to be halfway to Arcturus by now; I'm having an inspection tour." He explained, coming up to the Ground team and the alien SF team leaders.

He eyed the Aliens with something akin to disdain; and outright glared at the Army troopers, and Major Lee glared right back at him.

The Admiral snorted then looked at the tarp; "You know that is quite the camo job you've done there; the Army troopers talk you into doing it?" He asked sarcastically.

"Yes sir, Major Lee figured we should get some practice in doing it the old fashioned way." She explained, keeping her voice level.

Mikhailovich nodded while raising an eyebrow; "You could hardly tell that you have a ship under there at all." He admitted, before looking back at the housing units and the moorings; "Where's the rest of your gear and crew? You certainly don't seem to be in any hurry to leave." He noted.

"The gear is on board and the crew is making final preparations and Intel gathering with the local's sir." Major Lee answered, which Jane was thankful for; because she was finding it harder and harder to keep her tongue untied.

The Admiral shot him a glare, before looking back at the netting; "You know Commander, this is the best camo job I've seen in a long time;" He started, pushing Mordin and Aethyta out of the way. Everyone paled as he got closer, barely able to keep their faces straight; or in Tali's case, stop herself from having a full on nervous breakdown.

August quietly shuffled in front of her to hide her shaking.

The Admiral started shifting the netting around and lifted some of it up; "Why you could hardly tell there is a-" Mikhailovich stopped dead in his tracks, then slowly turned around to face the group. Everyone's hearts stopped upon seeing the completely stupefied expression on his face. "Commander… your ship, it… it isn't there." He stammered.

Shepard gave a light shake of her head, "It isn't?" she practically whimpered.

"No…" The Admiral replied, still stunned.

"It isn't sir, because it's down in maintenance sir. Some of the crew took it out for repairs sir!" August exclaimed, trying desperately to salvage the situation.

"Really?" Mikhailovich asked, his sarcasm starting override his incredulity now. "Well then you're in trouble, because no ships are allowed to go into maintenance without my approval."

Tali gulped, "Well… Admiral, in an emergency we can park the ship in drydock."

"Oh? Then what was your emergency?"

"Er… well…" Tali stammered.

"Shut up…" Mikhailovich said coldly before turning back to Shepard. "Now then, out with it Commander; I want the truth, and I'm not leaving until I get it! Now what happened to your boat?" He demanded.

Shepard gulped, bristling slightly at his callous treatment of Tali, but knowing it wasn't the hill to die on she just said; "We lost it." she admitted.

August winced, knowing what was coming next as Mikhailovich stared at the Commander for a moment before slowly walking up to the tarp that had been set up. To everyone's surprise, he actually started laughing; then that laugh turning into full scale cackling as the Rear Admiral doubled over laughing.

No one joined him; as everyone wondered if the Admiral had snapped and was going mad.

After catching his breath Mikhailovich stammered out, "Oh Shepard, for a minute there, I-" before bursting out into another round of laughter, the man struggling to get himself under control. "You had me there for a second; I genuinely thought you lost your boat!" He exclaimed as he descended into another fit of giggles.

No one dared laugh as they weren't sure how to respond as the Admirals laughter tapered off.

He stopped laughing as his smile dropped, "Holy shit you're serious aren't you…" He said.

Shepard nodded reluctantly, and the admiral gave a short nod as he started pacing in front of them. "How did it happen Commander? Was it a spacial mine? Or was it an EA suicide bomber? Or maybe it was an EA prowler, now that would do it wouldn't it?" he asked.

Shepard gulped, "Well… no sir it wasn't in combat… we just lost it. We put it someplace and just couldn't find it again." She said, looking down at her feet.

"Oh… well you've just managed to get yourself kicked out of the Navy. You're through Shepard, and your crew as well! I am going to break this crew so far apart that they will never be heard from again." He snarled. "And you Shepard, you will be spending the remainder of your life at Fort Leavenworth; you won't even be jailed with your fellow sailors, no you'll be stuck with your Majors fellow grunts." He turned to Nomad and said, "Major Lee, She is in your custody; and I want to see you both at my office by 1630. And you can tell former Lt. Commander Shepard that she can save herself a lot of time by beginning to pack." Mikhailovich ordered as he stormed off back towards his shuttle.

The shuttle warmed up its engines as August and Jane walked up the ramp, both of them in their Pinks and Greens, and Dress Whites respectively; the Ground team waving goodbye. "Don't worry guys, we'll let you know when they find the boat!" Archer shouted.

"Try and stall him as long as you can!" Phil added over the humming of the engines.

Both of the officers waved at the ground team, and the ramp closed behind them; while the Shuttle took off towards the main base.

Once the shuttle was gone, they all turned back to the now disassembled camo-netting; Wrex shaking his head as he did so, "Hmph, your Navy sure is made up of some pyjacks; so what you lost a ship, it's just a frigate. We lost them all the time." He grumbled.

"A shame, we got all those Stealth Frigates out there too." Aethyta added.

"Yeah, but none of them are ours." Garrus snorted.

"It's not like the  _ Normandy  _ is a one of a kind ship." Liara grumbled.

Archer froze and asked, "Tali, could you disable all the tracking beacons and systems on the  _ Normandy _ like Kal did?"

Tali blinked and tilted her head, "Yes, but the  _ Normandy _ isn't here."

Archer grinned a very wolf like smile, "Oh yes it is, do we have any paint around here?"

Kirrahe's eyes brightened as he immediately put together what Archer was thinking, "Will not work, they will immediately notice difference!" He exclaimed.

Ashley put it together next, and burst out laughing, "Oh my God Aya! That's brilliant!"

Archer laughed as well, taking off in a sprint; "Well come on then! We don't have much time!"

Shepard paced around the waiting room and entrance to Mikhailovich's office, sweat beading down her face while she did so. August was sitting in a chair with a far off look in his eyes; his round rimless glasses, mixed with his Pinks and Greens archaic look, and what he called his "Captain Price" Mutton Chops, gave him the appearance of a 19th century businessman waiting for the verdict of an important deal.

Finally, Shepard stopped pacing; and after a quick look at Mikhailovich's secretary, she turned to August and asked, "Lee, you're an expert on regulations; if only to find ways to circumvent them. What exactly can the Admiral do to me?"

August thought it over and replied, "Well I don't know Shep, there isn't exactly a regulation for misplacing a boat." Then he grimaced, before adding; "But there are other statutes that apply. There's Negligence, Conduct Unbecoming an Officer, and Dereliction of Duty…"

Jane sighed, running a hand through her bun to make sure it was still in proper shape; "Alright, so the old man has more than enough on me to get me kicked out of the Navy and possibly imprisoned."

August winced, "Not necessarily Jane, I don't think he would do just that." He noted. "There's also the matter of restitution."

"Restitution?" Shepard asked, visibly confused.

"Yeah, since the ship was not lost under the line of duty, but still under your command… You're obliged to  _ pay _ for It." he explained.

Shepards already pale skin turned white; "OH NO!" She yelped.

Just then, the Admiral walked out of his office and up to his secretary. "Get Senior Lieutenant King and Senior Lieutenant Romanov up here right now." He ordered, before turning to August and Jane. "Major Lee, I want you in my office; I'm going to need some statements from you on those forms."

"Yes Sir." August replied, shooting Shepard a sad look before he walked into the office.

Mikhailovich went to follow him, but paused and looked at Shepard again; "Oh Ms. Shepard, I've got forms in that office you've never heard of; I'm really going to make this stick." He hissed, before heading into his office and shutting the door.

Shepard gulped, and went back to pacing the office for a few minutes, although it felt like hours to her. Just then, Archer walked into the room and walked up to Shepard, standing at attention. "Commander," She started, snapping off a quick salute, "Ms. Zorah would like me to tell you that the  _ Normandy SR-1 _ is ready; and that we can leave for Arcturus Station and Earth at any time."

Shepards face brightened, her eyes brimming with tears; "Y-You found the boat?! Aya I could kiss you, where was it?!" She asked, choking up slightly.

Archer could barely keep the smirk off of her face while she faced away from the commander, "Ms. Zorah says that the boat was never lost ma'am; it was over at maintenance and already logged in, and we just forgot to tell you ma'am."

Shepards face twisted into confusion, "Maintenance? But Kal said…" She trailed off as Archer turned her head to face Jane, a wolf like smile on her face.

Jane blinked as realization dawned on her face, a smile slowly adorning her features; "You mean there's a ship out there right now; a Stealth frigate with the words  _ Normandy SR-1  _ on it?" She asked. "A boat that belongs to us?" she quickly added.

"That's right Ma'am,  _ Normandy SR-1 _ is ready to stand inspection… Anyone's inspection." Archer replied.

Shepard nodded, the grin now threatening to split her face in half; "Well… Aya tell the crew I'm proud of them; and tell them to stand ready while I go sort things out with the Admiral."

_ KnockKnockKnock! _

"Come In." Mikhailovich snapped impatiently while he and August sorted through the assorted papers and files.

He turned and saw Shepard entering the room; "Ah Ms. Shepard, I thought you were King; wait outside while I sort out these forms. I want to make sure I close every loop hole." He said dismissively.

"Loop holes about what sir?" Shepard asked cheekily.

"You know damned well what Ms. Shepard; oh I'm enjoying this Ms. Shepard, I'm enjoying this more than the time we confiscated that shipment of Alcohol of every species in the Galaxy." He said happily.

"Really Admiral? Well I have some good news sir, my boat was never really lost; it was just a misunderstanding sir." Shepard replied, not once losing her smile.

"Mmhmm," Mikhailovich mumbled as he nodded absently, sitting down; "Well you can tell that to the Court Mar-" he stopped and snapped his gaze to Shepard, his smile dropping from his face. "What do you mean it wasn't really lost?" he asked.

"Well sir, my crew did log the ship into maintenance and just forgot to tell me sir!" She explained quickly, her smile not dropping a millimeter.

"Do you mean to tell me that you found your boat?" The Admiral demanded.

"Yes sir! She's ship shape and ready to go!" Shepard replied.

August for his part slumped slightly, letting out a sigh of relief while muttering; "Oh thank you sweet merciful God."

The Admiral glared at both officers, before saying; "Shepard, there is something fishy going on here."

Shepard gulped slightly, but said; "No sir, nothing fishy at all; just a bit of human error is all sir. I'm so sorry to put you through all this trouble sir."

August grabbed the forms that he had been filling out and asked, "Er, would you like me to shred and burn these forms sir?"

"ABSOLUTLY NOT!" Mikhailovich bellowed, causing August to jump and drop a few forms. The Army major quickly regained his composure and deftly caught all the forms he had dropped before they touched the ground. "I want those forms put away; I may get to use them yet." The Admiral growled.

August put the forms on the table while Shepard grabbed his arm, starting to tug him away; "Well sir if that'll be all, we'll be on our way to Arcturus and Earth sir!" she exclaimed.

"Oh no you won't! You think I've gone nuts? Senior Lieutenant King and the  _ Arracourt _ will be heading to Earth, while Senior Lieutenant Romanov will deliver the reports at Arcturus; you're lucky I'm not throwing you all into the brig!" Mikhailovich snarled, before walking back over to his desk.

Pressing a button he called his secretary, asking "Lieutenant King and Lieutenant Romanov out there yet?"

"Yes Admiral, Romanov's here; but not King." The secretary replied cheerfully.

"Send him in;" Then he turned to the two officers, smirking slightly; "Arcturus indeed… why you aren't even in the same league as King. In my eyes that man is a real N7, and true Navy. As for Romanov… well… bad apples tend to cluster together."

The door opened and Romanov walked in; his officers peaked cap tucked under his arms as he gave a picture perfect salute to the Admiral. "Senior Lieutenant Romanov reporting as ordered sir!" He said, a thick Russian accent tinting his voice.

Mikhailovich looked him up and down with a frown on his face, taking in Romanov's black hair done up with the sides buzz cut while the top was left long; before giving a look at Shepard and Lee. Shaking his head, he said "Well Romanov, I have some good news for you; Shepard and the  _ Normandy  _ aren't going to Arcturus, You and the  _ Bastogne  _ are."

Romanovs face dropped, and he gulped; "Me sir?" He asked.

Mikhailovich frowned, "Yes you, what's the matter with you; don't you want to go to Arcturus?"

Romanov started sweating as he said, "More than anything sir, but I'm afraid we won't be able to."

Mikhailovich, Shepard, and Lee all looked at each other; the surprise and incredulity matched on their faces; "You won't be able to, why the hell not?" Mikhailovich demanded.

"We lost our boat…" Romanov managed to choke out.

Mikhailovich's mouth opened and closed for a few seconds; making him look like a fish, before he finally asked, "You lost your boat?'

"Yes sir, just a little while ago… I-I can't understand how it happened sir." Romanov stammered.

Mikhailovich gave both Romanov and Shepard a cold look, saying; "Well how 'bout you ask Shepard; she lost her boat too."

"But we found ours sir!" Shepard protested.

"When!?" Romanov demanded.

"Only a few minutes ago." She replied.

Just then, there was a knock on the door; and King walked in. "Senior Lieutenant King reporting as ordered sir!" He exclaimed.

Mikhailovich glared at the man, looking him up and down; before saying, "You've lost your boat too haven't you; you lost the goddamned  _ Arracourt _ ." The Ukrainian Admiral hissed.

King blinked, gulping as sweat appeared on his forehead; "H-how could you tell sir?" He asked meekly.

"WHAT AM I RUNNING AROUND HERE?" Mikhailovich roared, and all four officers snapped to attention; "Am I running a naval base or a lost and found?" He turned back to the four officers, "What am I going to do with you four? Shepard and Lee lose their boat and all of a sudden it turns up again right as King and Romanov lose theirs… what am I going to do."

Shepard and Lee started backing away, "Well we already have our ship sir, if you need us we'll be at our base. Goodbye Admiral." She said, opening the door as the two of them practically sprinted out the door.

Mikhailovich glared at them, then at Romanov and King.

"Romanov, you have thirty minutes; if you don't find your boat, you can turn in your bars. King, pick up those files." He growled.

The  _ Normandy  _ Ground team was polishing the outside of the ship; frantically running polishing rags around the name and number to make sure the paint had dried completely. Archer walked along the dock, making sure everything was in place as she said; "Well how are things coming?"

"All good!" Tali replied, "She looks just like the  _ Normandy _ ; the  _ Bastogne _ wasn't as different as I feared. This should tide us over until we find the old one."

"Good!" Before turning her attention to the docks, she saw two figures heading their way, "Oh shit, officers incoming; look sharp!"

Williams, who was above the letters, exclaimed; "It's the skipper and the Major!"

The ground team immediately hopped off the ship and rushed the two officers; yammering the whole way. Shepard held up a hand to stop them, exclaiming; "hold up there guys, why did you take Romanovs ship? Or did you take Kings?"

"Beggars couldn't be choosers, we couldn't get close to Kings so we took Romanov's; good thing too since his ship is in similar shape to ours." Archer explained.

"Speaking of which, look whose coming." Liara noted.

Everyone turned to see Romanov sprinting towards them, "Why the fuck did you have to steal my ship!" He demanded.

"Beggars can't be choosers Mads, Besides; I think your boys already took to our line of thinking." Shepard replied.

"What makes you say that?" He asked.

Just then, another stealth frigate pulled up to the docking clamps next the  _ Bastogne/Normandy; _ the letters on this new ship reading,  _ Bastogne SR-4. _ As soon as the clamps had secured her, the ground team of the  _ Bastogne _ rushed out to meet their skipper.

"Boss, we found the boat!" The squad leader exclaimed.

Romanov gave them a suspicious smile; "You wouldn't have happened to have painted over the letters, ' _ Arracourt SR-3 _ ' did you?" He asked sarcastically.

"Whatever do you mean sir?" His team leader replied with an innocent look on her face.

Everyone laughed, until Tali exclaimed; "Oh  _ Kheelah! _ Shepard look!"

Everyone turned and saw a third stealth frigate pull up to the dockyard; pulling up to the Docking Clamps; the letters were bright as day,  _ Normandy SR-1 _ ; with the fake SR-1 right next to her.

"They found your boat!" Romanov exclaimed, his face pale.

"Oh Shit! Now we got two of 'em!" Shepard wailed, "GO BACK!"

Everyone outside started frantically waving at the cockpit, trying to warn Joker off; before giving up and running to the disembarking ramp for the SR-1.

The ramp opened revealing Kal, Colt, Daniels, Donnely, and Alenko all grinning like madmen.

"Skipper we found the boat!" Alenko exclaimed.

"Goddammit go and lose it again!" Shepard screamed back, her biotics flaring.

"Lose it, what do ya mean? It took us forever to find her!" Colt asked.

"You dumbasses! Can't you see that we have twins?" August shouted back.

"Dammit if Mikhailovich or King sees us we're dead!" Romanov added frantically.

"Get this damned boat out of here!" Shepard shrieked, her voice rising in pitch as her panic became more pronounced.

"But it's our ship!" Kal said.

"From now on it's the  _ Arracourt SR-3 _ ! Now get outta here!" August shouted, as everyone frantically scrambled to get away so the ship could take off.

King paused in filling out the forms in front of him as Mikhailovich paced the room behind him. Just a few minutes ago, Romanov had messaged them that he had found his boat in maintenance; his XO having sent it there to replace a ruptured Eezo line.

After a few seconds, he summoned up the courage to say; "Begging your pardon sir; but have you given any thought to the coincidence involved here sir?"

"Coincidence?" The Admiral asked absently.

"Yes sir, Romanov seemed to lose his boat at the same moment Shepard found hers; and then Romanov seemed to find his within minutes of my crew losing my boat." King explained.

Mikhailovich gave him a hard look, saying; "You're not inferring…"

"I… need to check it out before I make a direct accusation sir!" King admitted. "But I wouldn't be surprised if one of the two ships Shepard and Romanov have is my boat."

Mikhailovich seemed to think it over before leaning over his desk. "You know King I must be getting old… now that you mention it I would not be surprised either… BOAT STEALING! That'll put 'em away for a long while!" he exclaimed, rushing to grab his cover; while King opened the door with the biggest smile on his face.

The crews of the  _ Normandy  _ and the  _ Bastogne  _ were working to prepare their ships for their departure back to patrols; the rest of the  _ Normandy _ crew having piled into the new ship while Kal, Donnely, Daniels, Alenko, Colt, and Joker repainted and hid the original  _ Normandy. _

Lee, Romanov, and Shepard stood at the docks talking to each other when King and Mikhialovich walked up to them.

Looking at the two ships and at the clearly painted names and ship numbers, Mikhailovich asked, "Still think one of these two could be your boat King?"

"No sir, without a doubt, any ship this dirty and unkempt would only belong to Shepard and Romanov." King replied sulkily, his only out now gone.

Looking the ships over while Romanov and Shepard spluttered over the insult to their ships; Mikhailovich said, "I agree; Commander, Lieutenant… get these garbage scows off of my base."

Shepard and Romanov looked at each other while Lee said, "Well uh… they are little untidy aren't they sir? Well we'll be casting off then."

The three officers went to leave, but then King surprised them by exclaiming, "Admiral Look, I think that's my boat!"

All of them looked into the sky as a third stealth frigate pulled into dry dock, the docking clamps locking her in place. "I say that does look like the  _ Arracourt _ doesn't it?" Shepard asked.

"It is my boat, we got her back!" King replied happily, dashing off to the entrance ramp.

Mikhailovich sighed and looked at the other three officers, "Our Admiral, back when I was a Captain, used to warn us about days like this." He grumbled before they all went to follow King.

They all walked up to the ramp where King was talking with XO and squad leader.

"-the boat was down in maintenance; and when we got there, there she was!" The XO was saying.

"I just don't get how we lost her in the first place." The squad leader noted.

"Doesn't matter men, the important thing is that we got her back." King stated firmly.

"Now King are you sure that this is your ship?" Mikhailovich asked, looking like he desperately wanted a nap at the moment.

"No doubt about it sir! I trust you can tell the difference?" King asked proudly.

The Admiral just nodded and asked, "Romanov, you leave for Arcturus; Shepard you go back on patrol, and King are you ready to leave for Earth?"

"The  _ Arracourt  _ is always ready sir! My Guardians are always charged and my Torpedoes are always primed." He proclaimed proudly, smacking the nearby torpedo tube.

To everyone's shock, it gave a hollow  _ clang. _

Romanov frowned and knocked on it, making a hollow banging noise.

Lee tilted his head, and typed a command into his omnitool; and the torpedo tube opened up, spilling several beer cans onto the ground.

Everyone stared at the beer as horror and realization dawned on Kings face; he knew exactly what had happened, and he was now getting the short end of the stick. Mikhailovich for his part knelt down and picked up one of the cans while glaring at King.

"What is this Senior Lieutenant, some kind of new Spacial Charge?" He asked sarcastically. "Beer cans in the torpedo tube?"

"Shocking sir… shocking, why it wouldn't surprise me if there was porn downloaded into the ships mainframe." Shepard added in a straight face.

Romanov typed a command into his own omnitool; pulling up a picture downloaded from the internal drives of the ship. "They do have porn on their ship! Hey Male Quarian on Female Human…" He noted, staring at the picture.

King's face was turning whiter and whiter as he glared at his two rival ship commanders.

Mikhailovich for his part walked up the ramp to a nearby storage locker that had frost on the outside; "And what is this locker full of King? Ice Cream?" He pulled it open, and immediately shot King a ferocious glare before pulling out a tub of ice cream with the label  _ 'Shepard's Pie Flavored' _ .

The Admiral walked up to the officers; King as white as a sheet of paper, Romanov still staring at the porn while Lee tried to look over his shoulder, and Shepard was barely containing her laughter. "ICE CREAM!?" Mikhailovich bellowed.

"S-sir I-I-" King started.

"King you just stand there at attention. AT ATTENTION!" Everyone snapped to attention while Mikhailovich fumed silently. "I swear," He hissed, "Never in my entire career have I had so much trouble sending a crew on vacation to Earth before. Shepard is the  _ Normandy  _ ready?" He asked.

"Yes Sir!" Shepard stated proudly.

"Then go… both of you go before something else happens to make me change my mind again!" He ordered.

"Aye Aye Sir!" Lee, Romanov, and Shepard shouted; taking off at a run to their ships while Mikhailovich snatched another beer car and shoved into Kings hands.

"Open it." He ordered while he opened the tub of Ice Cream and grabbed a spoon from nearby, angrily shoving the Ice Cream into his mouth as he did so; trying to find some comfort for the end of a very trying day, only to have that ruined as well as the particular Beer he had given King had been shaken very badly in the confusion.

As the universes final middle finger to the two officers; they were both sprayed down with beer as King opened the can. Though neither could prove it, they were sure Shepard, Romanov, and Lee were all laughing at them.

Back on the  _ Normandy, _ everyone settled in for the trip to Earth; everyone resting in the break room as August tried to spool up the holotable to start their nightly  _ Hearts of Iron 4  _ match.

"Man… what a day…" Shepard sighed.

"You know, we're going to need to get the real  _ Normandy _ back at some point." Liara pointed out.

"Yeah but that's a problem for future us." Wrex noted.

"Yeah…" Aethyta agreed.

"What is taking so long Major, I want to dominate as the Soviets this time." Kirrahe asked impatiently.

"I don't know, it's not loading." August replied angrily.

"Speaking of which, could one of you go get me a beer and the ice cream?" Shepard asked.

"Sure thing skipper." Colt replied, before he did a double take. "Shit."

"What?" Tali asked.

"Oh…" Archer put her head down on the table, while Phil face palmed.

"Skipper we forgot, we're on Romanov's boat; and he's a Russian born Chechen Muslim, he doesn't drink beer!" Williams exclaimed, while Alenko wisely tried to hide behind her; Kal doing the same with Tali.

Shepard looked at everyone in the room before the Gunnery Chiefs words fully hit her. "Oh you have got to be shitting me!"

I shot awake from where I lay on my cot; blinking in confusion as the last dregs of sleep left my body. I looked around the hanger bay where the rest of the newly reactivated Task Force 1-4-1 members slept.

I checked the clock next to me, and it read " _ 0500. _ "

"What the fuck was that dream?" I mumbled to myself as I got up; looking at my mug, I walked to the kitchen to get myself some water.  _ Okay… no more caffeine before going to bed; that was a really weird dream. _ I promised myself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ThePilotArchangel has extended the invitation to any fans of his story to participate. Simply go to his page on FF.net https://www.fanfiction.net/u/8343608/ThePilotArchangel and message him.


	12. Saturday night's alright for refitting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nomad was not the first Traveler to be dumped into this Alternate Mass Effect Universe. And he most certainly will not be the last; these are the stories and adventures of the future and current members of the Systems Alliance Group for Specialized Tactics (GST).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The following stories are written as authorized expansions on ThePilotArchangel's "A Ghost and a Specter" story. This particular chapter is part of a series written by myself.

We dropped in system right on time. Everything needed to be perfect. We weren’t likely to ever get another opportunity like this, and we needed to be at the top of our game. The lottery for pulling this job had been a ruthless affair: bribes, fights, at least two seduction attempts, but in the end it was Jawa who came out on top. 

We were going to be performing an  _ in situ _ resupply of  _ the _ SSV Normandy SR-01.

The brothers were whispering between each other, and Juan all but fidgeted in his seat while repeating his radio phraseology over and over.

I rolled my eyes. “You do realize it’s likely to be Joker at the other end of the radio, right?” Everyone looked at me. I nodded out into space. “Yeah, they’re famous  _ to us _ , but you heard Schultz before we left; don’t let on  _ anything _ .”

Everyone chuckled and looked chagrined. “Shut up,  _ pendejo _ . Just because you’re friends with GT Kingslayer--”

I shook my head. “Just with Nomad. I haven’t met the rest of his team.” 

There was a beep on the console. Hans tapped a few keys. “Delphi just picked them up on the system's edge.” He looked at Juan. “You’re up,  _ El Jefe. _ ”

He nodded, cleared his throat and opened the comm channel. “SSV Normandy, this is ISV Marvin requesting approach clearance. How copy, over?” There were several seconds of silence, then several more. Juan looked over to the brothers.

Frans just shrugged. “Maybe they didn’t hear us?”

His brother huffed. “Or maybe they’re a top-secret stealth ship that just got pinged by a freighter when even  _ they _ didn’t know they were going to be here?”

Juan scowled at the console for a moment, then looked over at me and unclipped from his seat. “Get over here.”

“What?” I unclipped and drifted around Juan.

“You’re the one with the celebrity connection, you talk to them.”

I rolled my eyes and strapped into the radioman’s seat. I thought about what to say, then just decided to pass along the message I had received from Earth the day of our departure. “Kingslayer Actual this is Marvin: Ziva says, ‘ _ call your daughter you deadbeat’ _ . How copy, over?”

Our radio crackled to life.  _ “You’re still a sonofabitch, you know that? Remind me again why I didn’t leave you on Illium?” _

I snorted. “So I’ve been told; and you didn’t leave me behind because you forgot how to dodge and were venting your spleen at the Civil Protection team. We’ve got a care package from Dr. Heliix. Permission to come alongside?”

There was another delay, then an unfamiliar woman’s voice came on.  _ “Marvin Actual, this is Normandy Actual. Who am I speaking with?” _

It took me a moment to realize this was Shepard;  _ the _ Jahenne Shepard. It took me a second or two to get my wits back. “Apologies ma’am, this is Sgt Hiram Abiff, GST Transport and Retrieval Team Jawa aboard the ISV Marvin with supplies and material. Over.”

_“Copy_ _Marvin. We don’t have you on our scopes.”_

I looked over at Juan, who nodded to Frans. I began unclipping from my seat and keyd the mic one last time before switching with Juan. “Standby  _ Normandy _ , you will in a moment.  _ Marvin _ out.”

We got situated in our proper stations, and made the in-system jump to where the  _ Normandy _ was holding. 

What I remember of the game cutscenes, woefully paled next to the actual ship. Her sleek lines were complemented by her striking coloration, and even as the lightest of SA Naval Starships, she was nearly three times our own length. Whatever one thought of the ‘Rule of Cool’ philosophy that had informed her design in our home world, the SR-01 SSV Normandy was a sight to behold.

Juan rekeyed the com. “SSV Normandy, this is ISV Marvin. Permission to dock portside, over?”

There was some hesitancy in the voice that came on next.  _ “Uh, roger; yeah, you can... where the fuck did you come from?!” _ We chuckled at the sound of a minor commotion from Normandy’s bridge.  _ “No seriously! That looks like a museum piece, how the hell-” _

_ “Marvin you are cleared to dock, portside fore.” _ Shepard was back on the radio, sounding exasperated, but also slightly curious.

We all chuckled as Frans brought our ship up to the lit and now uncovered docking port. “Copy Normandy. Standby for handshake.”

Once we were locked in place, we all unclipped and got ready to meet legends in the making.

...

The airlock cycled open for us, opening onto a peculiar tableau. 

Commander Shepard and her ‘Band of Misfits’ were all there, along with all the members of Kingslayer. Shepard, Alenko and Williams were all ready for a fight, while the Ghosts were all but bouncing in anticipation of the ‘care packages’ we had brought from the Spirit and GST HQ. The remainder of the people were the various aliens, all of whom looked on in curiosity at what could elicit such a divided reaction among their human counterparts.

Juan subtly took a calming breath and saluted the Commander. “Lt. Juan Rodriguez-Rivera and GST Retrieval Team Jawa, requesting permission to come aboard ma’am.”

Jahenne eyed the four of us and the wheeled crates with us warily, planting her fists on her hips and throwing her pancho open. “Granted, but I’ll want to inspect those,” she pointed to the crates we were pulling, “before I’ll let it onboard.” 

I shrugged. “Fair enough. It’s just Supplies and Contraband.” There was a round of choking noises from around the receiving area as I unlocked the case and opened it up. “Let’s see, authentic Russian engine degreaser,” I set out a bottle of St. Petersburg Alimov vodka while Phil fidgeted, “36 pack of Coca-Cola’s inferior cousin,” alongside a case of Pepsi as Colt grumbled under his breath, “three punnets of strawberries,” Aya licked her lips, “and one ‘Tony Montoya starter kit’.” I set out a sealed box of Havana’s, a Fedora, and a combo weapon I could only describe as an ‘Ellen Rippley Special’. The other crates had been opened to show infantry armor-plate/shield carrier vests.

When I stood up, the various aliens only looked more confused, Chief Williams was gawping at the collection of items, Lt. Alenko was staring at the Ghosts, and Shepard was staring directly at me. 

I’ll admit, she was a very intense woman and it took a great deal to maintain eye-contact without flinching or gulping. 

Finally she pinched the bridge of her nose. “Major Lee, get your shit off my deck.” The Ghosts rushed over to collect their treasures. “Lt. Rodriguez, I’ll want you to brief me on  _ why _ we’re having this little stop so soon after departure.” Juan deflated and headed to follow her, while Hans and Frans stepped on board, looking around like a couple of tourists in Hollywood for the first time.

I stepped over to August. “Before I forget, there’s a followup for the message from Ziva.”

Lee stood up in expectation, at which point I punched him in the floating ribs. It was really just a tap rather than a killer body blow, but it was unexpected and the resulting ‘oof’ got everyone’s attention. “Call. your. daughter. When she gets upset, it upsets Ziva, and since Ziva usually can’t get ahold of you she gets ahold of Kara. Whatever those two are talking about has Kara making some very  _ domestic _ suggestions, so call June.”

Most everyone was laughing at this point except for Shepard, who looked resigned to serving on a ship of fools, and Wrex and Aethyta who were glaring daggers at Lee. The deck shook as the ancient pair stalked over. 

My previous encounters with Wrex’s species did nothing to prepare me for his raw presence. It also didn’t prepare me for being shoved aside so he could loom over the Ghost while Aethyta stood next to him, glaring.

“What’s this about you not keeping in contact with your daughter?!” Wrex’s voice boomed in the small room. “Do you have any idea how precious a gift that is?”

I took the opportunity to make a hasty retreat back into the  _ Marvin _ . Lee didn’t miss my strategic retreat. “Hey! Get back here!” His voice was stern, but frantic.

I waved over my shoulder as I headed down the shipway. “Sorry Major, But I’ve got to get ready to get to work.”

“You sonofabitch! I swear to God, I’ll see you married before me!”

...

After the obligatory rounds of hand shaking and barely repressed fanboying from the remainder of Jawa, it was time to get to the overhaul. I made sure, once we had grudging clearance from Shepard, that we didn’t start work until after Lee finished his phone call. 

We divided into three work groups. 

Juan oversaw the swap-out of the ships magazine for a full load out of Mass-Effected Hyper-Velocity Impactors (MEHVI, or Meh-Vee), while Jahenne, Garus and Ashley lurked nearby. 

The Brothers, much to their grumbling, kept watch on the Marvin and flew the small re-supply tug from spot to spot. 

I was up on the triangular dorsal sensor tower with Skell Tech’s new 2nd Gen “Delphi” sensor package and the software to integrate it with the ship. I was ‘escorted’ by the ships XO, Charles Pressly, Chief Engineer Greg Adams, as well as Tali’Zorah nar Rayya.

Of the three, I definitely prefered Tali. “What exactly does this do?” She looked at the new sensor unit as Adams and I disconnected the old ultra-high RF generator. 

“It’s the business end of a comm buoy.” I drifted in the microgravity as we disconnected the last cable and set to work on the mounting brackets.

Pressly huffed. “This ship already has a state of the art Q-Comm. Why is command insisting on another communications system?”

There was a  _ clunk _ and the old generator started to float free. “It’s not for communications. It’s for long range scanning.”

Pressly was a good officer from what I could tell, but he was unimaginative; it showed in his confused expression, though Tali’s eyes flashed behind her mask. “Wait, you’re saying this projects a focused mass-effected channel in front of the ship--”

I nodded as Adams and I wrangled the multi-tonne generator out of the way. “Not just in front, but yes and then you fire a LIDAR, or RADAR or just look down the tunnel.”

Pressley’s eyebrows shot up at that. “Wait, this is a Real-Time Beyond C scanning system?! That isn’t possible!”

Adams chuffed a laugh. “Of course it is; how do you think comm buoys work?”

Tali’s head cocked to one side. “But, why has nobody else tried this before?”

I shrugged as we finished tying the old sensor down and uncrated the new one. “Institutional momentum, lack of imagination, dogmatic adherence to the Prothean Cargo Cult?” That did earn a barked laugh from Pressley. “Anyway, once this little darlin’s installed, you should have 10 seconds passive range, one minute active and one AU point target discrimination in real time.”

Adams whistled as we maneuvered the unit into place. “Wonder how the Council’s gonna take you Spooks hiding this from them?”

“I can almost hear Udina lecturing them about how this is off the shelf tech, and we aren’t responsible for educating them on how to apply tech they already have.” We all paused and looked at Pressly. “Well you did describe it as ‘the business end of a comm buoy’.” He pointed at the new sensor unit. “There isn’t a Council or Associate race that doesn’t manufacture those.”

My estimation of Pressly went up; whatever he lacked in technical imagination, he seemed to make up for in political savvy. It brought me up short to think what his fate was likely to be, and how we were forbidden from speaking about it. Adams’ magnetic tool-retrieval yo-yo bounced off the top of my head, bringing me back to the here-&-now. “That’s true, though the real game changer is down in the magazine right now.”

“The new torpedoes? What about them?” Tali watched with eagle eyes as Adams and I worked.

“Well for one thing, they aren’t put together backwards.”

There was a general squawk from those gathered. The Lt. rallied first. “I’ve personally inspected every part of this ship and there is  _ nothing _ wrong with our disruptor torpedoes! The SSM-72 Javelin is the Top-of-the-Line Systems Alliance Capital engagement munition in production!” 

“Adams, shift it a little this...- _ click- _ that got it. Yeah, and like every other DT in production, it’s designed backwards.”

Adams peaked over the side at me. “How?”

We started on the connections. “Lt. Pressley, how do DT’s work, and what is their primary weakness?”

The Lt. crossed his arms. “Disruptor torpedoes use a positive mass field to overcome a target’s kinetic barriers, but that makes them very difficult to accelerate so they are easy for Guardian and other systems to intercept. They have to be volley launched very close to the target.”

I nodded. “Good. Tali,” I caught a glimpse of her through the cable bundle I was connecting, “how long does it take for a Mass Effect Field to propagate once the Eezo Core is energized?”

Tali’s vox-mitter gave a screech I recognized from early conversations with Ziva as a Quarian snort. “The local speed of light. It  _ is _ gravity after all.”

“Also good.” I drifted relative upright and looked at Adams. “Last question: how long does it take to energize an Eezo core from high mass to low mass, and vice-versa?”

Adams paused for a moment looking at me like I was asking a trick question. “The same as the propagation rate.”

Charles had apparently had enough of ‘20-questions’. “Where is this going,  _ sergeant _ ?”

I turned to face him fully. “So why not make the torpedoes lighter so they have a better acceleration profile?”

Pressly huffed again. “Because our targeting software and...systems...” He trailed off and stared at the new sensor. “Beyond-C real time targeting!”

I nodded as everyone’s eyes lit up. “With terminal engagement speeds measured in whole number percentages of C, each torpedo now hits with a force that  _ starts  _ at four times the power of a Dreadnaught’s Main Battery.”

Pressly glanced at me. “Let me guess; ten seconds to max-terminal attack velocity?”

I squinted. “Closer to 30 seconds. Eezo shenanigans or not, it takes a lot for a non-FTL engine to run up to .9 C.”

Tali sounded like she was hyperventilating. “But that means--”

“Naval warfare doctrine as we know it is obsolete.” Pressley finished for her.

I nodded as Adams and I boxed up the old sensor unit. “Yup. Every frigate and every fighter in the SA fleet is going to be a Dreadnaught killer by the time fleetwide rollout is finished. Hey Tali,” she looked at me in shock, “don’t you  _ also _ have a phone call to make?” She shivered for a moment, then rushed back to the personnel section.

...

We were all gathered in the CIC behind the cockpit, and I do mean  _ all _ . The room was cramped, as it was wall to wall personnel. Williams had to actively corral people away from the work stations. Even the group of Quarian refugees from the EA’s attack were here, gathered around Tali and chattering excitedly amongst themselves. 

The only true island of calm was Commander Shepard. 

She stood with her fists planted on her hips as she looked at the holographic display that normally showed a strategic map of the galaxy. “Alright Jawa,” she glanced at Juan, “you’ve crawled all over my ship, swapped out parts and munitions and loaded your software. Time to convince me this was worth it. Pressley, bring it online.”

The crew tensed and looked around as if expecting the sound of machinery spinning up. 

All that happened was a wire-frame image being projected by the hologram. It showed a simple animatic of the Normandy, surrounded by a globe of orange lines. There was a single repeating ping from halfway through the globe on the starboard side. “What’s that?” Pressley enhanced the area she was pointing at. A series of numbers and an identifier of, ‘Anomaly’ were displayed, along with a range indicator of ‘2.281 C’

Juan nodded and keyed in the Marvin. “Frans, point our Delphi at something else.” The anomaly shifted rapidly and was soon gone from the sensor. “That’s how sensor apertures look to the scanner; it knows it’s an ME emission, but it can’t classify it.”

“Alright, but what about active emitters?” Pressley asked. “Can it differentiate those?”

“Unless there’s a glitch in the software, sure. That’s one of the things we’re here for.” Juan keyed his mic again. “Marvin, standby to detach.” He turned to Shepard. “By your leave ma’am?” 

She nodded, and several crew members began tapping their controls. There was a slight shift as the Normandy’s gravity control compensated for the loss of Marvin’s mass.

“ _ Marvin away.” _

Juan nodded and faced Shepard again and pulled a sealed envelope from his pocket. “We have some maneuvers laid out. This is a list of them and their times. Once you switch to active scan, we can begin running your Delphi through its paces.”

That we did, for the next four hours. After the first ten minutes of playing hide and seek with the Marvin, most of the crew and away teams wandered back to where they were supposed to be. All that were eventually left were Juan and myself, Shepard’s Command Cadre, and Tali who was enraptured by the whole process. By the end of the exercise, Shepard no longer looked like she wanted to throw me and Juan out an airlock.

“This is a damn impressive system your people have developed.” Garrus leaned back against a bulkhead. “This would... no, this  _ will _ change warfare. How well does this scale?” He and Shepard looked between Juan and I.

As Juan was chatting with Frans about the next stage in the drill, I opted to answer. “I don’t know the actual math to calculate core size and effective scanning range, but the unit we installed here is a little over eight cubic meters. The one we lug around on the Marvin is about 250 cubic meters, and we can track point targets out to about four light hours.”

Shepard shook her head. “There really won’t be a need Dreadnaughts ever again, if the missiles work as advertised.”

“Sure there will.” I turned back to the monitor. “You just replace it’s guns with frigate sized sensors and  _ dare _ someone to move without you seeing it, then reconfigure your cruisers into carriers or arsenal ships.”

“Let’s confirm the missiles work before we rewrite the book. Lt.?” She looked at Juan.

He was about to speak when Pressley pointed at something. “What’s that? It’s in the Number 1 Aft Quadrant. It wasn’t on the scope a moment ago.” There was a ping about eight seconds above and behind us.

Juan looked over the data tags. “Hm. ‘Unknown’, about 100 meters across and... 50 tonnes? That can’t be right.” He glanced at Pressley. “Give it a fixed scan.”

The hologram zoomed in as the Normandy brought the new sensor’s full power to bear. We had a glimpse of a shape just before there was a flash of light and every alarm in the CIC went off.

“Joker, evasive  _ now!  _ All hands, this is the Commander; set Condition One!” Shepard moved to the cockpit while Juan and I clung to the railing. The sensor was still set for point observation, so I hit an icon on the Hologram and reset it to active area scan. There was a glimpse of something leaving our detection sphere, and a solid track on something heading towards us; something flagged as ‘Radiological Warning’.

Pressley flashed me a look of annoyance, though he did nod in thanks. “Commander, one missile inbound; profile reads as a Fission Warhead equipped Torch Drive. Intercept in T minus five sec--” The sensor feed went white a half second before the whole ship bucked and a new set of alarms went off.

“XO, report!”

Pressley went over to one of the Damage Control monitoring stations. “We were clipped by a Casaba-Howitzer warhead. Barriers took the worst of it, but it still punched through two armor layers above the portside wing root. No hull breach detected.”

“Where’s the Bogey?” Shepard stalked in, just as the commanders of the various ground teams and specialists rushed in.

Pressley manipulated the sensor controls to sweep the point sensors across the last known trajectory of the unknown. “They rabitted just after launching. They’re outside our scanning range now.” He looked hopefully at Juan.

Our Lt. shook his head. “Our Delphi was out of position. I just ordered Hans and Frans to lie Doggo in the moons of the second gas giant.” He tapped some controls on the Hologram projector, and a small sub-holo popped up in the corner. “I also had them point our Delphi at the Mass Relay; if they try to run, we’ll know it.”

Lee looked around. “What the hell just happened?”

I gave a sidelong glance at the Ghost. “A conveniently timed attack just as we were prepping for the live fire drills.”

“Well they’re not drills anymore.” Shepard leaned against the projector. “I wanted to know what your new systems would do in combat; looks like we’ll get our chance.” Lee’s jaw clicked shut as we shared a tense stare, while Juan’s back went rigid for a moment. 

This was a little  _ too _ on the nose for us.

“Alright people,” everyone looked back at Shepard, “anyone not directly connected to the new sensors or weapons, the operation of the ship, or contributing ideas on how to help needs to clear the CIC.” Everyone stood still for a moment. “That’s not a suggestion.” 

The ground teams filed out, though Tali was still staring at the hologram. “Can we backtrack them?” There was confusion, but also curiosity. Tali looked around hesitantly. Lee, Juan and myself all looked at her in anticipation. “I mean, I’ll... just-”

Lee was at the door to the CIC and held up a hand. “You have a thought?” Shepard and Pressly were about to send her out, I’m sure, but they saw something and hesitated. 

“Well, I know the sensor has limited range, and they’ve probably left that already, but we know where they  _ were, _ so I thought...” 

She looked about to fold in on herself when Garrus spoke up. “You want to go on a  _ Spirit Hunt _ ?”

Jahenne looked at him oddly. “What’s a spiritual retreat supposed to do?”

His mandibles and frills all flared in confusion. “Huh? No, a ‘Spirit Hunt’ is an old Naval tracking tactic. If you know where and when a target ship was somewhere--”

The XO’s eyes lit up. “You can move to a position ahead of their information wave!” He tapped the controls and pulled up navigational data and time. “Commander?” He looked at Shepard expectantly.

She gave a sharp nod, and he fed the coordinates to Joker. While Pressley was away, she went over to Tali and said something that caused the young girl to sag in relief. Lee led Tali out as Shepard walked back and the ship made a micro jump. It was the work of moments for Pressley to find the right ‘time’, and soon we had a perfect image of our attacker. 

The ship was a very familiar one, to a Traveler.

“What the hell is that thing?” Garrus’ sentiment was reflected by the rest of the bridge crew, though I could see recognition in Juan’s eyes. The discus shaped center body had a flat, boxy aft and was flanked by two cylindrical devices on up-swept wings, each as long as the main saucer. However where I would normally expect to see a stylized bird of prey, this ship instead was decorated with graceful Arabic script forming the image of a lion.

“Ma’am.” Shepard looked at me, “I suggest we get Major Lee back up here.”

She nodded sharply at one of the seated crew and I heard August being paged. “What do you know?”

I locked eyes on the aggressor ship. “That marking is a very specific Calligram belonging to the  _ Nizari Isma’ili _ .” Lee came in and immediately started swearing the moment he saw the ship. “Specifically, it’s associated with the  _ Asasiyun _ . We’re being hunted by EA Assassins.”

...

We spent another four hours tracking the movements of the EA hunter/killer. Whatever we might have called it, most of the crew adopted Wrex’s name for it based on the Calligram: The Varren. It had initially jumped towards the system’s only rocky planet, but it made one course break to throw off possible pursuit and headed towards the third Super-Jovian. The enormous proto-star had an equally massive ring and satellite network. 

“Well this should be  _ fun _ .” The Battlemaster groused.

Shiala, the ship’s only other Asari, smirked at the massive Krogan. “What, is the great and mighty Urdnot Wrex afraid of a tiny Human ship?”

Wrex didn’t even bother looking at her. “Yes, and you should be too.” He nodded at the display. “That’s not a warrior out there, seeking honor and glory. That’s a murder machine. Stealth ships like that are first strike weapons meant to kill, nothing more.” He turned one baleful eye towards the startled Commando. “I guarantee that if we chase it into that pyjak nest, we will come out bloody, if we come out at all.”

“Then we don’t.” Shepard looked at Juan. “Transmit to your ship, and have them drop off our old magazine at these points.” She indicated the ‘dark’ sides of several of the moons. “Once they’re done, have them meet us here, in case we need someone to pick up survivors.” It was left unsaid whose survivors she thought might need picking up. “We’ll remote activate the torpedoes and fire them into the ring in sequence; make it look like  _ we’re _ orbiting the ring. Then, when they try to pounce ‘us’, we fire from our current One-Light-Minute zenith position.”

I could tell Juan was uncomfortable with involving the Marvin in this operation, but we both recognized the soundness of the plan. The fact that Shepard was taking steps to keep Hans and Frans out of the actual fighting was mollifying. We continued monitoring the planet as the Marvin laid the torpedoes like depth charges. Lee rested a hand on Juan’s shoulder as my Lt. sagged in relief once the Marvin joined us. 

Pressly looked to his commander. At a nod from her, he ordered the weapons officers to activate the 24 torpedoes, one at a time, and fire them into the planet’s ring. The warheads activated at preset distances, causing gravity shockwaves that created 100 km bubbles to form and pop. After the seventh torpedo, The Varren made her move, firing a missile at our supposed position.

Pressley barked out. “Target on scope ma’am!”

“Lock on.” The hologram shifted as our sensors went to point target mode.

“Aspect change ma’am; she's running for it!”

“Weaps?”

“Locked!”

“Fire.”

The Normandy bucked slightly as two MEHVI’s were launched. There was a split second where the missiles were just hovering relative to our position, then the flashed out. The clock and acceleration counters both crawling as the Varren wove it’s way clear of the network of moons towards the Mass Relay. The clock reached zero just as she made it past the last moon. One missile flew wide, but the second struck the starboard pylon. Her kinetic barriers had no appreciable effect as the missile sheared the nacelle clean off. Everyone in the CIC whooped and started patting each other on the back as the enemy tumbled. Shepard looked to be ready to issue orders when the Varren’s port drive lit up, and she flashed away towards the safety of the relay network.

...

The cleanup and after action was very tense, and very edifying. Garrus had buried himself in the new sensor system. “Our launchers aren’t calibrated to the new missiles, that’s why the second one went wide.” He gave a grin to Jahenne. “Once I’m done, you’ll be able to poke that Varren in the eye if you want.”

Without the need to collect survivors, Hans and Frans were free to retrieve the remaining torpedoes. They also picked up the sheared nacelle. Juan shook Shepard’s hand. “We’ll get this to our R&D section. They’ll tell us everything there is to know about it. Maybe we can figure out where they have their shipyard hidden and send a little work your way.”

I was busy in the cargo hold getting the old RF generator stowed away, in the event they needed to reinstall it. 

“Sergeant.” 

I snapped upright and spun to find myself alone with nothing until the Commander threw her poncho open, disrupting its camouflage. She wasn’t intentionally menacing, but the woman had an intensity that could be very disconcerting, especially when you were alone with her in a confined space and she appeared out of nowhere. “Yes ma’am.”

“How did you know?”

I was caught off guard by the seeming non sequitur. “Know... what, ma’am?”

“In the CIC; I was about to send Tali away, but you, Lt. Rodriguez and Major Lee all  _ knew  _ she was onto something. How?” 

It was now apparent that she had used the ambush to put me off guard so she could interrogate me; I’ll admit, it was pretty damn effective. But then, as far as I was concerned that was the worst question she could have asked. Every member of the old GST was under orders  _ not _ to reveal what we knew or how we knew it. I stood at parade rest and looked her in the eye. “I can’t say ma’am.”

Her intensity shot up to 11 as she stalked towards me. “Can’t, or won’t?”

“Is there a difference when you’re under orders?”

That brought her up short as she stared me in the eyes. “Under orders?” I nodded, not really trusting my voice at that moment. “Of the three of you, only Lee personally knows Tali, though his familiarity is somewhat frightening at times. You and Juan though? You met her yesterday and you can somehow intuit that she has something useful to contribute from a glance. Tell me why I should trust  _ any _ of you GST spooks?”

“Because we trust you, ma’am.” Her jaw clicked shut as she rocked back slightly. “If you give the order, any member of our organization, from the lowliest Goffer,” I pointed to myself, “to our senior most operatives will follow through without hesitation.”

She squinted and snorted. “Really? So If I order you to blow up an orphanage, you’ll just merrily plant charges?”

“No ma’am, because we know you’d never give such an order.” 

She worked her jaw for a few seconds. - _ Commander Shepard, Arcturus is on the comm; you’re needed on the CIC.- _

She gritted her teeth in clear frustration. “I should go.”

It was all I could do not to bark out a laugh; it was like having the Queen of England declaring, “We are not amused!” 

Shepard must have seen the sudden tension in my posture, as her eyes lit up with barely contained fire. “Get off my ship before I decide to do a more thorough interrogation!”

I snapped a salute and made my way to the nearest gangway to climb up to the ship-way. I arrived just as August waved off Juan. “Ah, Hiram! I wanted to catch you before you left and let you know there’s no hard feelings. I even got you something!” His smile was pure smarm, but in his hand was a Normandy Service Cap.

I smirked, took the hat and shook his hand. “I call bullshit, but I need to get going.” I put the hat on and my grin slipped. “Shepard noticed us on the CIC with Tali. She suspects something but doesn’t know what.”

His own grin slipped at that, replaced by a tired look that I imagined a lot of us wore when we dwelled on what was going to happen to the galaxy in the near future. “I’ll think of something to say. Also,” his grin returned a little, “Ziva said in my last call that she’d sponsored Kalla. She’s coming to Earth to attend Xenobiology classes at Johns Hopkins.” He turned on his heel and headed deeper into the ship. “I expect they’ll have plenty of time to talk, and plan.”

My eye twitched as the hatch closed behind him. I scratched a nervous itch on the cap’s sweat band, then headed into the Marvin so we could get underway.

-three days later-

I desperately scrubbed my hair in the shower on the Spirit. “Seriously, itching powder in the cap? What is he, 12?” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ThePilotArchangel has extended the invitation to any fans of his story to participate. Simply go to his page on FF.net https://www.fanfiction.net/u/8343608/ThePilotArchangel and message him.


	13. Mikaius' Side Story: Welcome to Mass Effect, or, I miss having five fingers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nomad was not the first Traveler to be dumped into this Alternate Mass Effect Universe. And he most certainly will not be the last; these are the stories and adventures of the future and current members of the Systems Alliance Group for Specialized Tactics (GST).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The following stories are written as authorized expansions on ThePilotArchangel's "A Ghost and a Specter" story. This particular chapter is written by Edgeoftoday. You can find his other works on https://www.fanfiction.net/u/12716553/Edgeoftoday

I knew it was a bad idea to start another playthrough after I got off work on Friday. It had been around a year since I went through the trilogy, and I'd finally bought Andromeda on Steam to try it out when I finished the originals again. Problem was, I did pretty much nothing but play for two days straight. On Saturday, I got a total of maybe two hours of sleep and only stopped to take a leak and cook something in the microwave; I don't even remember what it was.

I pushed through the first one in record time, for me at least, killing Saren and Sovereign once more around five pm on Sunday, and in my quest to blitz through the games, I completely forgot about church and how I would be working the following morning. I'm not sure when my body finally decided it needed sleep, but I closed my eyes to relax them a bit, and the next thing I know I'm hearing an alarm go off. _Oh come on, what is it now?_

That's when I remembered what day it was. _Crap, I need to take a shower!_

I stumbled out of the recliner chair I'd been living on for an entire weekend after gently putting my laptop and wireless mouse down; careful not to scratch the relatively brand-new computer, seeing as I bought it a month ago so I could play the newer games that my old one just couldn't handle. When I looked around, I noticed the shades were drawn, so I opened them to help me see in what I assumed to be early morning. What was on the other side was definitely not the small, back-country town I was used to. _Uhh, ok, either this is a really vivid dream, or I'm hallucinating due to sleep deprivation, because last I checked, cars can't fly! And since when did I live in a city?!_

I looked down at the street to try and see if I could figure out where I was, only for my breathing to outright stop as I noticed the bystanders; able to clearly see their faces even though I had to have been ten stories up. Ignoring my seemingly better than 20/20 vision, I had perfect eyesight before so I didn't really notice it at first, I gaped at the people walking down below. After all, I'd recognize them from anywhere thanks to what I was doing that led up to this. _Turians? Salarians? Asari? And is that an elcor?_

"What the hell is going on?!" I said, pausing when I heard a strange sort of echo to my words. _A flanging echo at that. Almost sounds like good ol' Garrus. Wait a second...._

On a hunch I looked down at my hands, and immediately felt the blood drain from my face. Instead of my light tan, almost pale, skin, and the scar I had on my left hand's middle finger from a knife sharpening accident, I had three fingers on each limb covered in silver metallic plates that ended in sharp, retractable talons. "Oh. Oh..."

I looked out the window again, my brain in too much shock to register surprise when I saw the Destiny Ascension off in the distance, and something in my mind clicked when I put it all together. "I'm on the Citadel, in Mass Effect, and I'm a turian."

At first I scoffed, thinking it was ridiculous. A second glance at my hands and I started to chuckle, it quickly turning into a full-blown laugh, and I laughed, and laughed, and laughed, the flanging echo to all of it furthering me on, until I started to cry; the realization that no, this was not a dream impacting me full force. 

It took another five minutes to calm down enough for me to think rationally; allowing me to notice the surrounding apartment ‘I’ lived in. 

There weren't many decorations aside from a cloths rack with an odd-looking coat on it, and pictures of what I assumed to be family next to the bed on a nightstand, with foreign writing on a few of them. I picked one up, the edges frayed with the passage of time, and it showing four turians clustered around a fifth one in what appeared to be a black and blue uniform, all of them with what I recognized as a happy smile on their alien face's, even if I didn't understand how I knew that. At first I thought I wouldn't comprehend the words, I never was very good with languages not at least based on the English alphabet, but when I read them, I actually read them; the lettering and what was said somehow as clear to me as my native tongue. _‘To our son, Mikaius. From your parents, Tastinus and Atalera Falinian. Make us proud.’_

I don't know why, but each name sounded familiar; as if I'd heard them before. I put it back down, a sense of deja vu coming over me for a second, only to disappear just as quickly. I went over to a desk that had, if my intuition and what I'd seen in the game was right, a holomonitor on it, and turned it on; only to then wonder precisely how I was able to do such a thing. 

_Just another question to add to the steadily growing pile._

Either it didn't require a password, or it had some type of facial recognition program, because it went straight to what passed for a home screen; everything being in turian at least making it easier for me to understand. A haptic keyboard popped up out of nowhere, and the controls seemed to be easy to use as long as you were acquainted with a standard touch screen interface, so I didn't have any problems with it.

Figuring I may as well get used to the way it sounded, I decided to talk to myself while I messed around with the awesome futuristic computer from what I previously believed to be a fictional reality. What? It's a shiny new computer and I get lonely, so of course I’m going to talk to myself seeing as no one else is there with me. “Alright, first thing's first: the date by human measurements. March of 2183? Ok, so the first game's already started. Speaking of games, let's see what's on here: Galaxy of Fantasy, Alliance Corsair, Grim Terminus Alliance, Third Coil, certainly a lot of them. Well, at least I won't be bored, but I can always check them out later. Ah, here we are: Email! Wait, so just Email, no brand name or anything like that?”

I then remembered what the internet was called in this universe. “Ohhh, I get it, Extranet mail! Alrighty, let's see here….a message from a batarian business promising ‘a surge in masculinity for males of every species’.” I snorted “Yeah right, nice try hacker. Delete. A message telling Mikaius that his rent is due-whoa, hold up a second, why am I reading his mail?”

I glanced at the photo from earlier in concern, and picked it up again; bringing it over with me when I sat back down in front of the monitor, as I had a suspicion I needed to confirm. “Camera…camera…where's the...” That's when I noticed my phone on the ground next to my laptop. _Weird, that should be in my pocket. Then again, who am I to complain; at least I have it._

I picked it up and used the built-in camera like a mirror; giving a first real look at my new face. “*sigh* Well, in the words of Shepard: you were always ugly. Wait, no, not the point.” I compared the two, the face in the camera and the one in uniform, and quickly reached a conclusion.

“So….I? Suppose that's an accurate term. I have a family here. Okay, good to know.” I shrugged, accepting it. I know most people would've missed their own family, but I only had an older brother and father in my immediate one; Mom died in a car accident when I was young and Dad never remarried, and I was never close to my extended family. We keep in touch, or kept I guess considering where I am now, but we'd all moved on with our lives years ago.

I slipped the phone into a pants pocket, glad some things were used by people other than humans, and sat at the future version of a computer desk once more. “Now then, what about those other messages? Hmm, junk mail, junk mail, bills, subscription fees to Fornax, wait, did I read that correctly? Apparently I did. Huh. I'm going to need to go over this thoroughly at some point. Anyway, where was I? Ah, finally, something useful! ‘Sergeant Falinian, due to recent events surrounding the Eayan Allah attack and the subsequent deficit in C-Sec's available manpower, you are being transferred to the Zakara Ward Precinct Enforcement Division until further notice. The district officer in charge of your new posting is Lieutenant Armando Bailey, human, so you are expected to treat him accordingly.’ Whoa, whoa, hold up; Bailey? And what's this about an attack? Just another thing to look up, I suppose. Maybe we never heard about it in the games because it wasn't that big a deal.” I shrugged again, adding it to the pile of questions “What's this, a survey? ‘Find out if you know what happens to Earth in 21…86….” _No way that's a coincidence._

The first question was simple: ‘Are the Reapers real?’ My eyes narrowed in suspicion, but I went along with it. “Yes.”

The next was a bit more tricky: ‘Is subject “Savior” Paragon or Renegade?’ “I always went Paragon. Ok, more like Paragade, but come on, Balak wouldn't have stopped at one.”

I hesitated to answer the third, knowing full well that whoever made this had something in mind when they did. _Well, I came this far, no point in stopping now. No way I'm just going to shout it out for anyone to find it, though. I remember the running joke in fanfics about the cyber security being terrible here, and there's probably a good reason for that._ The question was: 'Who is “Archangel?”’ “The sarcastic turian that I always picked with a female playthrough.”

The fourth one almost made me walk away then and there, but as one of my favorite youtuber’s regularly says: no guts, no glory, chicks dig scars. It was: 'Who is the Illusive Man?’ _Welp, either this is legit, or I'm going to disappear somewhere and never be seen again. Still not stupid enough to just say who, though._ “Jack Harder with a p.”

I think it was confused for a second because it didn't immediately go on to the next one, but it did eventually. The final question in the ‘survey' may as well have been pointless after the other four, but at least it had an easy answer. ‘What did Bioware create in 2007?’ “Mass Effect.”

It gave a bell-like ‘ding’ when I finished, and asked for several pieces of information regarding who I am, where I was, the last thing I remember before getting there, and a few other things about my background. I briefly thought about using my original name, but eventually went with the turian one; realizing that ‘I', that is to say the me that fell asleep last night, had probably been dead for over a hundred years. “Mikaius Falinian, I'm 31 years old, or I used to be anyway, no clue how old I am now, and pretty sure I'm in an apartment complex on Zakera Ward that's at least ten stories high. I fell asleep playing…well, THE games, before I woke up in the body of a turian C-Sec officer. Used to be a captain and fighter pilot in the US Air Force, moved into the private sector when my term of service ended.” _Why do I get the feeling I should include a bit more than that? *sigh* Well, figure it wouldn't hurt to let whoever it is know a few extra details._

“I'm trained as a marksman in case of emergencies, and flew nine combat missions as anti-tank and ground support in anti-terrorist operations across the middle east. Also….I kinda just got here, so an explanation would be nice.” I sent the message after reading it a second time to ensure it covered everything I wanted it to, and was told to expect a response in 2 to 5 hours, so I went back to and sat down on the chair that ‘brought' me here. I was mildly annoyed to learn it hadn't changed a bit from what I remember it looking like before. _Oh, sure, I get my entire body turned into a spirits damned alien with razors for fingernails, but you stay the exact same. Just my luck._

I briefly paused to think about why I would use a thoroughly turian curse, and after a few seconds I waved it off as just a random event inspired by my current situation, leaning back on the recliner while letting out a sigh of pleasure; now thankful it was unchanged. _Ahhhhhh, still the best chair I've ever owned. Figure that I've got the time to spare, so where was I? Oh right, fighting my way through Horizon with my Sentinel. Heheheh, playing Mass Effect inside of Mass Effect. Irony most definitely abounds. Hope the battery lasts until they get here._

I flipped it open so I could enter the password, only to blink when I saw the power indicator showing it was currently charging even without a cord. “That's certainly convenient. The future's wireless technology at work? I'll have to find out later. For now, there's Collectors to kill! Err, the digital kind that is.”

Ten minutes later, I learned how difficult it is to move using the standard wasd controls when you have only three fingers, thanks mostly in part to dying six times in a row against the Praetorian. “FUUUUUUUUUUU-“

KnockKnockKnock...

I paused the game and looked at the door, having a basic idea who was there. _About damn time._

I got up and opened it, expecting this particular visitor. What I wasn't expecting were the four eyes on the person's face. "So you're the one that made that 'survey'?" I asked, somewhat startled.

The Batarian smiled back at me; he looked tired with heavy bags under all four of his eyes, but he seemed rather cheerful. “Not exactly, but these days we Station Chiefs keep a close eye on the old program regardless.” He explained, stepping inside and activating his omnitool.

“So how has your job been treating you, Sergeant?” He asked, scanning the room with his 'tool.

I narrowed my eyes at the friendly tone, but played along; glad I wasn't the only one security conscious. "Good enough, all things considered. The Executor's still a pain to deal with, but what else is new."

“Oh nothing really, but with everything so shaken up given the recent Eayan Allah attacks; I’d assume that you would be extra jumpy regarding potential human terrorists.” He replied, still keeping that chipper tone, even as he narrowed his own eyes at his omnitool; tapping in a few commands before lowering it.

“Alright, it’s safe to talk; you had a bug planted in your room, though it looks like it didn’t pick up anything important.” He explained, turning to look at me.

I raised an eyebrow, brow plate, whatever it's called, and went back to my chair; intent on being relaxed for however long this ended up taking. "So, where was it anyway?"

A corner of his lips turned up in what looked to be a tired smirk. "If the scan was right, you are most likely sitting on it at the moment."

I jumped out of my chair, surprising myself with how fast I was, and eyed the cushioning warily. "So now even my own furniture can spy on me. What next, cameras in the refrigerator magnets?" I muttered.

The batarian shook his head in amusement, before turning serious; both pairs of eyes staring at my own. "You're probably wondering just what happened that brought you here, how you're in a strange alien body, why, and if you can return. Sadly, I only know a partial answer to that second one, and the rest are a complete mystery." He paused, most likely to judge my reaction.

_Figures it wouldn't be that easy. Well, as the old Bear Grylls saying goes: Improvise. Adapt. Overcome._ "Alright then; how am I a turian, and I'm assuming you're like me, so how are you a batarian?"

He blinked his eyes in a sequence, lower left-upper left-upper right-lower right, apparently not expecting my response. "I have to say, you're taking this remarkably well."

"I had my little breakdown just a few minutes after I got here, and I tend to recover fairly quick once the shock wears off." I explained casually, shrugging after I did. I'm not sure if it was because I was used to a rapidly shifting routine thanks to the time I'd spent as a pilot, or if it was a result of being raised by just my dad, but I'd never had problems adjusting to a new environment.

"I see. To put it simply: the brains of the people that used to occupy these bodies were rewired, their original personalities and memories replaced by ours. This process leaves holdovers from the previous owner in the form of understanding and being able to speak their language fluently, certain facial expressions or body postures, and a tendency to use curses associated with the species in question." I looked at him incredulously, and he noticed. "I'm not lying; I've been trying to keep myself limited to normal human ones, but I can't seem to stop the pillars damned words from making it out!" He blinked in sequence again, and sighed heavily.

_Oh. So that whole 'spirits' thing from earlier wasn't a random event. Joy._

"I think I know what you're talking about." He raised a double eyebrow, prompting me to continue. "Pretty sure I already experienced it at least once. So, with the basics out of the way, what now?"

"Now, we go into who I am, who I work for, and why it's important to you." He gestured to my recliner, and I had a feeling my hunch about this taking a while would end up being right, so I followed the silent advice. He did much the same with the chair by the computer desk; moving it directly in front of me to make it easier for the both of us. "My name is Obram Cokeswar, obviously it’s a pseudonym since it’s a Batarians; but it’s one that I‘ve long since accepted as my real name. I am the Citadel Station Chief of the Group for Specialized Tactics.”

"Group for Specialized Tactics? And that is?" I trailed off, looking at him expectantly, and he nodded; going into further detail.

“A few years ago, some ‘Travelers’, that is what we are called by the way, realized that there were others out there like themselves, and so they banded together with one purpose in mind: to stop the Reapers. 

“It started off with my group here on the Citadel, and another group over on Omega; and overtime it grew and ballooned to what it is now. Close to two thousand ‘Travelers’ are now in the GST; we started out as nothing more than a loose coalition of people donating their spare change to equip and field teams to go and deal with the ugly in the galaxy.

“Along with the Travelers, there are approximately five thousand non travelers employed by us; but most are Case Officers, and they think we are just another intelligence agency. GST is Black by the way, no one is supposed to know it exists except for those employed by it; the Alliance oversight committee, who also believe it's just another Black Project, and those aliens that are in our good graces.”

“Spirits! Two thousand others are already here? What's been done to prepare for the war? I'm assuming Eden Prime's already happened, so Shepard is out there hunting Saren and Sovereign; am I right?” It didn't take me long to realize the first word I used, and I had to resist the urge to cringe. Obram, however, did cringe; looking a little uncomfortable.

“The event you have in mind went off….slightly different than the original version. Combine it with what's taken place over the past month, and the only way I can put it is this: canon has gone straight off the rails.” I opened my mouth to ask him to clarify, only to close it when he held up a hand. “I'll send the updated version of recent history to you on physical paper, along with a ‘guide' in how to acclimate to your situation.

“That reminds me. I did some digging and came up with ‘your'” he did air quotes while he said it “personal history; I'll send a more thorough description along with the rest of what we've discussed, but here's the basic summary, so be sure to memorize it: your name is Mikaius Falinian, and you're 27 years old. You're a Sergeant in C-Sec and have been on the force for 6 years; you used to have a salarian partner that you served with until he retired last year and moved off the Citadel, and you haven't been given a new one as of yet. Your parents and two siblings live on Palaven; their names are Tastinus, your father and 49 years old, Atalera, mother and 46, Amulitus, brother and 20, and Juana, sister and 17. According to what I've learned, you've been transferred to Zakera Ward; is that correct?”

I nodded absentmindedly, too busy trying to absorb all the information about what was effectively my new life to pay attention to what he asked, and he continued.

“Then that brings me to why I'm seeing you face-to-face. Normally, I'd send a courier to pick up a new traveler such as yourself; but in your case, I decided it needed a more…personal touch. You see, Zakera Ward is where the GST's base of operations is located on the Citadel, and ‘Ghosts', the special forces branch of the organization, regularly come here for various purposes.”

“Ghosts? Really? What, so do they all wear skull bandanas too?” I asked sarcastically.

He chuckled lightly, and his lips curled into a small smile. “They do indeed, yes. As such, seeing as we don't have someone in your position, I was wondering if you'd like to become one of our Case Officers.”

“You brought that up before. Just what is a ‘Case Officer’?”

“A Case Officer is what all you movie types call a Spy, or Secret Agent. A Case Officer's job is essentially just gathering intel on something or someone, but it’s not like the movies where it's instantaneous; this is the kind of stuff that goes on for months or even years before you can produce anything viable. I’m grossly over simplifying things of course.”

"Ah, ok, so you basically just want me to live a normal life for the most part; correct?"

"That's the gist of it, yes. I, or someone else in the higher ups might occasionally ask you to do something specific, but for the most part you'd go about in a regular routine; and if you notice something important or abnormal going on with C-Sec, I'll give you the contact information to one of my subordinates so you can get in touch with us. That's assuming you accept, of course." He finished with a bit of hopefulness in his voice.

I thought it over for a few seconds, and found that for the most part it seemed like a good proposition; there were just a couple issues that needed to be nailed down. "I assume that this comes with a few perks?"

He readily answered, though there was an undertone of guarded caution to it. "A few, yes. What did you have in mind?"

"First off: let's say I get caught somehow, whether following the orders of one of these 'higher ups' or just getting noticed for how differently I'm acting compared to before. What will the GST do?"

"We protect our own. If possible, we'll remove the person or people that are a security risk, and if not, we can relocate you elsewhere with a different identity. If neither of those is an option, then that leaves two choices: either we have a Ghost team extract you, or we ensure they don't have the chance to begin an interrogation." The vagueness of that second one was worrying, but in the end, I suppose there wouldn't be a choice at that point. _Not that it makes it more reassuring of what it implies. Still, having support in the form of commandos named after the best of the best in Call of Duty has got to mean something; and I'd be on my own otherwise._

"Alright, second issue: how much would I be getting paid for this?"

He raised a double eyebrow, but the smirk gave it away; he probably knew that space cop or not, my salary was fairly low, according to what little I'd seen that is. "Case Officers receive a monthly check to make up for additional expenditures 'on the job', and if at the end of the month it hasn't been emptied out, the funds are forwarded to a separate account for your personal use. Just try not to go overboard; if you spend too much all in one go, people will start to wonder where the extra money is coming from."

"Alright, that makes sense. Lastly: are we still going to be here when the geth and Sovereign attack?"

His mouth became an even line at that, and he didn't answer right away; a worryingly long stretch of silence before he finally did. "I don't know. To be honest, it's entirely possible that won't happen now, or that it might even succeed. Thanks to how much has been changed, there's no way to know for sure."

"Well…shit. That's going to be a problem." I became silent myself then, going over my options and what each one entailed. "Fine. I can't see any real reason to turn you down, at least not yet anyway, so I'll be your 'secret agent'."

He brightened up almost immediately upon hearing me accept, the bags under his eyes receding, if only momentarily, and he stood up; a wide smile on his face as he offered me a hand. Not being rude, I stood up myself, and shook it firmly. "Glad to have you with us, Officer Falinian."

"Please, call me Mikaius. Whenever I hear someone call me that, I look around for my father." I said with a smirk, making him chuckle at the line 'borrowed' from Garrus.

_ I've always wanted to use that. _

"One more thing: if you could come with me to my aircar, there are some tests that need to be performed at our base." He said.

"What tests?"

"Nothing too serious; we just need to make sure you're healthy, get your biometrics entered into the database, that sort of thing."

"Ah. Alright, lead the way. Just let me turn off my laptop first."

He tilted his head in confusion, and looked at me with furrowed double brows. "You didn't mention bringing something like that with you when you finished the survey."

"I didn't?" he nodded "Huh, must've slipped my mind. I'll need to save and quit the game first."

"Did I interrupt something?" He asked good-naturedly.

"Not really; I was about to start Samara's recruitment mission when you got here."

He squinted his eyes, funnily enough letting me know where the racial slur came from, before they widened to the point they exposed the normally unseen white surrounding them. "You brought the second game with you?" He asked in open shock.

"Hmm? Oh, that. No, I have all three plus Andromeda. Got a couple other games on there along with some of my favorite movies, some books on the future of aerial warfare and stealth aircraft, I may not fly anymore but I still have an interest in it, and a few other things I transferred from my last laptop that I need to go through. Why, don't you have them already?"

He went back to being calm and collected while I talked, although he seemed to become even more jovial and genuinely happy the further I went. "Would you mind if I got a copy of your data? Every now and then a Traveler comes here with highly valuable or long discontinued research, and yours could turn out to be a treasure trove."

I raised a brow plate at the excited tone, but shrugged, not seeing a reason to refuse. "Sure, go right ahead; I've got nothing to hide. I'm not seeing a flash drive on you though."

He snorted, bringing up his omnitool. "Don't need one."

I blinked. "Oh yeah, forgot about that. I'm going to need to learn how to use one myself; aren't I?"

"We'll cover that at the base." He watched a steadily increasing bar on his 'tool until it completely filled up around ten seconds later. "Done. I'll send it to the tech's so they can take a look at it. You have my thanks for being willing to share so readily; some would have hoarded such a thing to themselves. I'm glad you are not one of them."

I rubbed the back of my neck in embarrassment at the honest praise, noting the odd scaly texture of the exposed skin, and cleared my throat. "Well, you know, it's all in a day's work."

The loud bark of laughter startled me for a second; surprised it came from the man in front of me. When he spoke, it was with genuine mirth. "I think we'll get along just fine. I'll be outside your door when you're ready. Oh, and you may want to grab that coat."

"Why?"

"This isn't a game anymore, Mikaius. The Citadel is different from what you remember, and one of those differences happens to be weather patterns. Zakera has a fairly large human population, and right now it's the middle of March, so the early spring rain showers have already started in some areas."

_ Weather on a space station? I mean I know the Council is wasteful and extravagant at times, but this is stretching it a little. Guess he wasn't kidding about canon being off the rails. _

"Alright, I'll be out in a minute."

He nodded, leaving me alone in the apartment after the door shut behind him. "This day just keeps getting weirder and weirder. First being a turian, and now this. *sigh* Well, no point in delaying the inevitable."

I went to the clothes rack and examined the coat. It looked a lot like what those turian npc's on the Citadel wore in the second game; with long sleeves and a hood that came over the fringe, and ended around the forehead. I slipped it on, struggling a little to get my head through, and walked out.

Like he said, Obram was leaning on the wall next to my doorway, and nodded upon seeing me; walking towards what I assumed was a stairway. "Not going to take the elevator?" I asked.

He paused mid stride without turning to look at me, and spoke with more vitriol and pure hatred than I thought possible from the typically cheery batarian. "You'll come to learn that while some things are different, many others have stayed the same. And elevators are one of them."

I gulped at how dark it came across, and immediately followed him; now almost afraid to even bring up the subject. If not for the boost in hearing thanks to being a turian, I probably wouldn't have picked up on the muffled snicker as I approached, and I scowled at the joke made at my expense; a low growl emanating from a previously unknown part of my body.

"My apologies; I do that with every new recruit we find. You should see some of the reactions I get; one asari girl literally pissed herself." He chuckled, noticing the glare I sent his way. "Come now, I need to find entertainment wherever I can in this line of work."

I grumbled various expletives, not even caring when I slipped into turian ones regarding the 'dishonorable spirits' of batarians and his 'unprofessional attitude' towards a job; and it only served to make him chuckle even more.

We went down the stairs without another word, and walked to the front entrance of the apartment building. The first thing I felt when coming 'outside' was a gust of cold air; telling me it was in the upper 40's. I shivered slightly, not expecting the sudden temperature shift, and pulled my hood up in an attempt to keep warm. That's when I noticed the surrounding aliens all had umbrellas out, and I learned why when the first droplets of water started to fall from a hidden sprinkler somewhere.

Obram noticed my discomfort and pulled one out himself, handing it to me. "Turians don't like the cold very much, and as I understand it, most don't like being wet either. Something to do with not being good swimmers if I remember it correctly."

"What about you?" I asked, nodding in thanks as I extended the umbrella.

"Khar'shan is a desert world for the most part; the days are scorching hot and the nights are freezing cold, so this is actually rather comfortable for me. As for the rain, I don't mind; you get used to it after a while, and it reminds me of where I used to live."

"If you say so." I said skeptically.

"Trust me, this is mild compared to the winter seasons around here. I think you'll enjoy the summer ones though; most turians become energetic when the temperature gets above 85. Apparently, it's considered perfect weather by 'your' kind's standards."

"I'll take your word for it. The seasons back home could get crazy at times, but they were fairly mild for the most part; where I was at least."

We passed the minute it took to get to his car in normal conversation; looking for all the world like we were simple, everyday bystanders just discussing the weather. We got inside, it being a nondescript one that looked completely generic, which I suppose was the point, and he started it up. The first second of near weightlessness was...unsettling to say the least; but the feeling of momentum when it flew out and up was familiar enough for me to relax. However, the view I received when we got high enough turned out to be nothing short of beautiful; the games not doing it justice in the slightest.

He must've picked up on my reaction, although that may have been thanks to my wide-open mouth, and chuckled; saying with as much grandeur as he could muster, "Welcome to Mass Effect."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ThePilotArchangel has extended the invitation to any fans of his story to participate. Simply go to his page on FF.net https://www.fanfiction.net/u/8343608/ThePilotArchangel and message him.


	14. Mission 6: A crazy thing happened on my way to the Citadel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nomad was not the first Traveler to be dumped into this Alternate Mass Effect Universe. And he most certainly will not be the last; these are the stories and adventures of the future and current members of the Systems Alliance Group for Specialized Tactics (GST).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The following stories are written as authorized expansions on ThePilotArchangel's "A Ghost and a Specter" story. This particular chapter is part of a series written by myself. We now return to the mis-adventures of Hiram Abiff.

There are odd things you get used to, accustomed to, and take for granted in life. I’d been relatively lucky since  _ Traveling _ , in that I was generally always at a location of my own species, or one close enough to. Then you are reminded of little, and not so little differences between the species of the galaxy.

“State your name for the record.”

“Hiram Abiff.”

Take the Turians for example. One thing you generally don’t consider when dealing with them is the difference their physiognomy has on their furniture, and how uncomfortable it is for anyone without digitigrade legs and Pangolin-like scales. The chair I was sitting in was a prime example.

“Is there a problem?” The Hierarchy Lieutenant in front of me, Grumpus or something like that; he was my fifth interviewer today.

“Oh, there’s a whole punch-list of problems; none you can really do anything about.”

The Lt. flared his mandibles slightly as his frill buzzed. “If you say so. Let’s get down to it then and maybe we can cut down on those problems a bit. So,” he leaned forward and steepled his talons over a peculiar looking tool, one I had constructed not too long ago, “how exactly did you and your friends end up in the aux command of a slave frigate?”

I leaned back and started into my umpteenth (redacted) recitation of the last 24 hours.

“I’m the engineer, or  _ was, _ on the Marvin, a free trader ported out of Amaterasu. We were delivering a load of electronics to Cyreen.”

**X**

We’d only been back on the Spirit a day after the Normandy refit and were gearing down for R&R when we, as well as nearly every other Retrieval team on post, were retasked to deliver Delphi Probes to a dozen different relay systems each; all to try and track down the EA Bird of Prey.

We jumped through the relay into ‘nameless numbered system whatever’. “Alright  _ hermanos _ , one more probe to drop off after this and we’re home free.” 

“Yeah, yeah, I gotcha  _ El Jefe.”  _ I headed to the airlock and suited up to wrangle our payload of Delphi pods which had basically been strapped onto the hull in baskets, rather than coupled like our assigned Delphi Mk. 2. Once out on the hull I untethered one of the last two pods, while _ El Jefe  _ jockeyed it away from us using the Canadarm.

<Be free, little birdie!> The Brothers were as tired of this job as the rest of us, but still tried to make it as pleasant as possible.

I had just made it to the Command module without changing as the pod made its initial FTL burn, when two ships blue-shifted right on top of us: a well worn Batarian Frigate, and another Bird of Prey with red highlights.

_ “Mierde!” _

“Shit!”

“Go-go-go!”

“I’m fucking going!”

The Marvin lurched into motion as the two unknowns moved to block our Relay approach. 

“Hiram, rig up a shot on the EA ship!”

We still had some charge in the capacitors so I readied our beam drive to fire on the BoP. Just as we were lined up to shoot, she fired a brace of missiles at us. Hans managed to juke us out of its path and still keep me on target, while our two ‘IR Dumps’ maddly blasted at the oncoming missiles. Our engine fired just as the lone surviving missile was flying wide. The shot hit right where the bridge would be on the TOS version, and the ship continued on a ballistic course rather than turning to give chase.

That didn’t save us though. The missile detonated in a bright blue flash and suddenly most of our systems shut down, while my analogue controls indicated our capacitors were at a near critical overload. The Batarian then fired what I suppose was a warning shot, though that warning took out one of the hab units. Emergency seals shut to keep us from popping like a balloon or losing all our air, but now  _ we _ were ballistic and tumbling, with no real way to defend ourselves.

**X**

“So you arrived in system, and a Batarian Frigate jumped you for no reason?” Grumpus raised an eyebrow.

I snorted and crossed my arms. “Oh, they had a reason. And I’m pretty sure you know what it was, or you wouldn’t have been patrolling this far of the major trade lanes.” 

“Just because a Batarian Frigate was in system--”

“A Frigate that fired on us, tried to board us and had over thirty sapients in shock collars in their hold. You’re the one who called it a Slave Frigate first, remember?” I gave him a deadpan look. “I’m sure if you search the area you’ll find the wreckage of our black box somewhere.”

Grumpus cleared his throat and tapped the table. “So; damaged and adrift?”

**X**

We could see the Batarian nosing towards us cautiously as we rolled.

“The fuck are they doing?” Frans groused as he tried to bring systems back up on secondary power.

Juan looked up from his flickering screen. “Probably trying to figure out if it’s safe, considering we just beheaded that  _ Mujahadeen. _ ” He looked over at me. “We can’t let them have the ship.”

I nodded. “Whatever the BoP shot, it supercharged our capacitors. I think I can rig them to fry the Marvin. You get the CM ready to detach.”

I headed into the darkened connector to the Service Modules. It was a slow and unsettling trip; I was accustomed to the Marvin’s normal creaks and buzzing, not the ghost-ship derelict groan she was now giving out. I grabbed a hull breach kit as I passed into the engine section. The contacts for the supercapacitor banks were glowing and sparking. It was a matter of minutes to rig the capacitors to dump into the stellarator control magnets, which all but guaranteed a spectacular end to the Marvin.

I had just turned around when the ship  **bumped** . I could feel grating through the hull and rhythmic thumps as someone tried to come aboard. I set a timer on the makeshift Self-Destruct, then headed back into the SM connector. I saw a quick jet of sparks as someone cut through the universal airlock, and I clipped myself onto a safety ring, readying the hull breach foam gun.

The Airlock was finally smashed open by a Krogan, and followed in by three Batarians and a Turian, all in what I could best describe as ‘Pirate Chic’. None were in Hard-suits, or even Pressure Suits, but all I had was a hull breach kit and one of the daggers I’d collected on my first day in universe. They jabbered amongst one another as they drifted and bumped around. It was apparent most of them were unaccustomed to Zero-G. They also seemed to ignore me, as I must have looked like drifting detritus in the dark. 

I waited until they were all facing away from me, then fired the foam-gun. The recoil pinned me to the engineering bulkhead, but the effect on them was very satisfying. The quick setting binary ballistic foam hardened in seconds trapping nearly all of them in a resin gum ball.

Nearly all of them. The Turian had twisted out of the worst of it, though his pistol was trapped in the goo. He spun to face me with a sneer.

“Very clever,  _ monkey. _ ” He chuckled as I discarded the spent tool and drew my less than impressive dagger. “You’ve managed to even the odds in a single shot,  _ and _ removed my weapon advantage.” He drew a wickedly curved fighting knife and flashed it through a flourish that seemed to compliment his weightlessness. “But I supposed you didn’t know; all Turians who served in the Hierarchy Marines are trained to fight in microgravity.”

I shifted my dagger into a reverse grip. “I didn’t know that. Did you know that this ship’s pressure hull is only 2.5 millimeters thick alluminum?” His eyes widened in shock and he kicked off the foam mass just as I smashed the blade of my knife into the hull.

He was nearly on me when the SM  _ popped. _ Air rushed out dragging me and the Turian with it. I was still tethered to the SM, but he sailed into and bounced off of the hull of the Frigate that had docked to us. I caught a glimpse of him flailing as he sailed into the void while I pulled myself back onto the ruined ship. 

I crawled over the hull to the front of the CM and looked through one of the portholes. Juan, Hans and Frans were frantically gesticulating in their desire to know what was going on. I pulled out a grease pencil and a plastic note sheet, and let them know they needed to detach and maneuver to the far side of the Batarian ship. I clipped onto a safety ring near the CM connector hatch, and held on as the module jettisoned and began to move close to the Batarian’s hull.

We had just reached the opposite side when my timer reached 0:00. There was no ‘Earth-Shattering Kaboom’ for Marvin, though the force of the detonation and the resulting EMP did kick the Frigate enough for us to feel it.

**X**

“Your ship exploded from a glancing hit by a Batarian Frigate?”

I shrugged. “Not that glancing of a hit. What do you expect? The Marvin was a freighter, not an armored cruiser.”

**X**

Once I was sure we were not in any immediate danger, I moved back to the porthole. Juan had a message for me. He also wrote that he wanted me to find a hatch so we could board the Frigate before it started maneuvering again. I glanced over the ship’s hull and saw two hatches: one looked to be a mirror to the shipway that had connected us on the other side, but the second looked more like a service hatch. When I let him know, he showed me the emergency survival bubble. I understood his plan, even if it seemed like a bad one. 

We maneuvered the CM as close as we dared to the service hatch, then I tethered the two together. The CM hatch opened with a puff and the line went taught as three opaque bubbles bumped their way out. I jockeys them into position, then set about opening the manual hatch. It took five minutes without the proper tools, but I finally got it open, then stuffed the three of them and myself in and slammed the hatch shut.

I had just managed to get the air regulator open in the inner hatch when the lights flickered on and normal gravity returned. I unzipped the three bubbles and opened my helmet for the first time in what felt like days.

The brothers tumbled out gasping while Juan dusted himself off. “That was positively the most insane thing I have ever ordered someone to do.” He looked at us all. “Is everyone all right?”

We all nodded and chuckled and turned to the inner hatch, just as it opened to reveal a frazzled and tired looking Salarian. Juan was first on him, wrestling the Salarian to the deck and breaking his neck in very short order. 

“Jesus,  _ El Jefe _ !” Hans choked out. “What was that?!”

He dragged the body fully into the lock as I stuck my head out to make sure nobody else was there. “Mexico City PD. You  _ Gringos _ had your ‘War on Drugs’, while we were  _ at _ war with the Cartels.” He pried an Omnitool off the corpse and slapped it on his wrist. “Alright, let’s see what’s what.” 

He fiddled for a few moments, but the machine wouldn’t work until Frans grabbed the Salarians hand and tapped the controls. Once open, I reset access permissions like I had back on Illium, and we soon had our link to the Pirate ship, such as it was. 

He growled in frustration. “Is it too much to ask for some basic layout?”

I rummaged through the basic tools the Salarian had on him. “Doesn’t matter who made it, these ships are all laid out the same: gun in the front, engine in the back, bridge up top, and hangar at the bottom.”

He sent me a sour look, then pursed his lips. “What do you have?”

I laid them out: a little pry-bar about 20 cm long, what looked to be a small welding torch, and a spray can that had a universal sign for hull-patching. I ended up with the club, while Hans and Frans took the torch and the sealant. We made it to the catwalk above the midship holds before we found our next living person. Several in fact, all in cages with self-lit collars, as well as several guards with shotguns.

Juan laid a restraining hand onto each of our shoulders. “We can’t do anything just charging down there. We need to control the ship, and we won’t do that with brute force.”

We sullenly continued to crawl until we found a maintenance terminal. Juan traded the Omni for the crowbar, and I managed to locate an aux control center one deck below us.

“Alright, there’s a few people between us and it, but I think I can create enough of a diversion to clear a path.” I waited until Juan nodded and the Brothers were ready to run, then activated my diversion. The entire deck lit up with radiation alarms, sending pirates scurrying away. We rushed into the opening, ducked into the control room and locked the door behind us. 

Hans and I sat in the engineering and navigation stations. “Okay, looks like the Py-rats are getting ready to jump.” He glanced at me. “I’m gonna send you our coordinates, then dump their nav-logs so they can’t find their way. You keep their engines looking like they’re in overload so they don’t get Froggy.”

I handed the Omnitool back to Juan while Hans and I stalled the bridge with endless ‘faults’. Juan and Frans worked on saving the ship’s master logs onto the Omni and getting the Comm system ready to go. 

“Alright,” Juan heaved a breath, “ _ Vaya con Mio. _ ” He hit the command to wipe all the ship’s data and temporarily lock out the bridge’s command, then activated the main laser comm and pointed it at the system’s relay. “Mayday-Mayday-Mayday! This is the captain of ISV Marvin, RSS 22825. We have been attacked by pirates at the following coordinates. Please send assistance immediately.”

He set the controls to keep the broadcast going as a loop as long as it had power. Once main control was locked out, we smashed all the controls in the command room, welded the door shut and waited.

“Bruh, I really wish we still had our kit.” The brothers said as one.

I glanced at the Omnitool on Juan’s arm. “El Jefe, I have an idea if I can borrow that for a moment?”

He printed up a disc with the Omni’s memory then handed the tool over. “Whatever it is you’re going to do, make it good.”

I set to work making a series of modifications I had become very familiar with over the last years; I was the reigning Medieval European Sword Champion on board the Spirit after all.

The crew began banging on the door, then hammering on it, then cutting through it. Juan and Frans alternately beat or torched any appendage that managed to create a hole while Hans filled up the gaps with sealant spray. 

The torch gave out first, then the spray ran dry. By that point, I was done. “Get clear, and get ready to grab whatever weapons you can.” The nodded and moved to the sides as another bull Krogan ripped the doors open.

“You little pyjacks ready for the worst day of you--”

I thought my “X” cut with my brand new Omni-Zweihander was delivered quite well, though I’m certain Sachico _Hime_ from Finance would lecture me about my foot work; I’m the Spirit’s _European_ Sword Champion, not _the_ Sword champion. Still, the effect of having an armored Krogan collapse into four different piles at the feet of a 6’1” human with a 4’ glowing orange sword shocked the rest of the crew long enough to let me waylay the team at the hatch.

**X**

“And that’s where you found us,” I gestured to then now inert Omni-Greatsword, “holed up in the aux command center fending off the pirate crew.”

Grumpus’ mandibles twitched In what I guessed was incredulity. I haven’t learned all, or even many facial expressions for the more inhuman non-human aliens.

He rested his talons on the hilt and sighed heavily. “Alright, I suppose that’s enough for now.” He tapped a control on the table, and two guards came in to take me back to my cell.

**X**

Lt. Grathus of the Black Watch paced down the corridors of the Frigate “Bright Talon” until he reached the bridge. He strode in to see the Captain watching the superluminal energies wash over them. “Anything?” The Captain didn’t take her gaze from the view in front of her.

Grathus buzzed in resignation. "No ma’am, just more of the same; the exact same. If it weren't for the wreckage we saw on site, I’d say it was a complete lie. As it is, they’ve all rehearsed their story until they can tell it in their sleep.”

She glanced sideways. “Your opinion?”

He gingerly held the handle out and away, then activated it causing a four foot glowing orange blade to spring to life. “Much more resourceful than a simple freighter crew, and more disciplined; but not as disciplined as a proper military intelligence unit.” He rolled the weapon in his talons, impressed and alarmed at the nimbleness of the strange anachronistic weapon. “Intelligence contractors perhaps? Some deniable asset the SA sent out to snoop on the Terminus.” He shut the weapon down. “If we’d have gotten there an hour later, they likely would have seized the ship and been gone.”

She sighed. “And what of the disc?”

He stood at parade rest. “It’s in a coding format our techs aren’t familiar with. It is likely that it’s specifically human, so we may have to... reach out for assistance in decoding it.”

She hummed. “Well, I suppose it’s for the best we’ve come to the one place where such  _ assistance _ is readily available.” The swirl of FTL collapsed into a violaceous cloud surrounding a slowly spinning five pointed station. “If it can’t be found on the Citadel, it can’t be found. Contact our people in C-Sec; let them know we are bringing guests.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ThePilotArchangel has extended the invitation to any fans of his story to participate. Simply go to his page on FF.net https://www.fanfiction.net/u/8343608/ThePilotArchangel and message him.


	15. Mission 7: Aircar 54, where are you?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nomad was not the first Traveler to be dumped into this Alternate Mass Effect Universe. And he most certainly will not be the last; these are the stories and adventures of the future and current members of the Systems Alliance Group for Specialized Tactics (GST).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The following stories are written as authorized expansions on ThePilotArchangel's "A Ghost and a Specter" story. This particular chapter is part of a series written by myself.

Retrieval teams like Jawa were expected to venture out into the wider Galaxy. We had a number of contingency plans in place for things like being arrested by foreign governments, or attacked by pirates or slavers. Generally, those plans began with sending a general distress with a code designator on a particular frequency, then surviving long enough for a Ghost Team to extract us. Juan sent that Mayday from the Pirate Frigate, which we were no longer on, from the system we had been attacked in, which we were no longer in.

I assumed ‘we’, since the crew of the Turian Frigate had held us in separate cells throughout the trip. That more than anything, unnerved me. My prior life in the military gave me a rudimentary understanding of the intelligence process, and my limited training with the GST provided some measure of understanding the Sapient-Intelligence, or SapInt portion of intelligence gathering, so I knew this was an intentional ploy. 

It didn’t make it any less concerning as in  _ this  _ life, I actually had meaningful intelligence secrets. Not, ‘the access codes to invade Earth’ or, ‘the secret lover of the Prime Minister of the SA Parliament’ or any such nonsense. I knew the only real intelligence worth knowing: names. I knew the points of contact in any of a dozen settled starsystems that could be trusted to or were outright employed to feed the GST actionable intelligence. I knew several Ghost Team members on a first name basis, and that was the kind of intelligence that could topple governments.

Maybe the Turians sensed that, or maybe they were just generally suspicious until proven wrong. Whatever the reason they were treating us as criminals under suspicion, and that made me suspicious. Whatever the reason for our treatment, there wasn’t much we could do beyond cooperate in as limited a fashion as we were allowed, and hope someone would come for us before the Turians decided to break out the Thumb-screws.

I was startled out of my ruminations when my cell door buzzed. I stood up from my thoroughly Turian cot with my hands open at my sides. The hatch slid open to reveal Lt. ‘Grumpus’ and a pair of armed Crewmembers. I was reminded of the Turian pacification units whose name sounded suspiciously like ‘Hashishim’.

“Follow me.” I had already learned that, outside of the designated interview room, Grumpus was not prone to chatting, so I didn’t bother with any attempts at small talk. I was led through the ship, down to a hangar bay where a Hyrax shuttle waited for us. Only Grumpus and I boarded. The rest of the Marvin’s crew were still nowhere to be seen, and suspicion turned to genuine concern bordering on anger.

“Okay, what the hell’s going on? Since when does the Hierarchy military treat survivors of Pirate attacks like the enemy; especially when those survivors are from an allied government and have  _ committed no crimes? _ ” 

The shuttle lifted off and drifted out into the middle of a great purple nebula; one containing a  _ very _ familiar station. I’ll admit I was awestruck; years into this life, and I was still amazed at the beauty of the universe I now lived in.

Grumpus snorted from the pilot’s station. “And here I thought you were only capable of snark and disdain.” I glanced over at the almost personable comment, thoroughly distrustful of the sudden camaraderie. “To answer your question, since ships started disappearing in that jump route with no evidence of what was the cause except the occasional SOS.

“Until you and your ‘Marvin’ not only survived, but stopped the pirates cold with nothing but an unarmed transport, a Suit-Rat-Rigged melee weapon, and whatever you could scrounge from your would-be captors.”

When he put it like that, we did come off as more than a little suspicious.

“Now I’m not accusing you of collusion; I’m an old talon at pirate hunting, so I know the type. You and yours aren’t pirates or slavers. But if you  _ are _ just Star-Traders, then I’ll hot-box a Volus.” I had to choke back a laugh at the image that comment evoked and focused instead on the growing station.

“You four know something, and I  _ will _ find out what.”

He swooped in for a graceful dynamic landing that would have had Frans crying in envy. Our Bro’s handling of the ‘Tydirium’ on Haleguese was amateurish by comparison.

That thought brought me crashing back to the here and now. People had died on this station;  _ Ghosts _ had died here, as if the first time wasn’t enough. Some had been brutalized, including Leo from GT Foxhound. Phoenix had died here. All at the sadistic hands of  _ Ehyan Allah, _ the group we had been tracking when we stumbled on their Bird of Prey.

But instead of getting back in the saddle and tracking those deranged monsters down, I was stuck on the Citadel because this Pangolin-scaled Prick had an itch in his cloaca and wanted an answer.

I never looked at him, but he nevertheless picked up on my sudden change. He was out of his seat and in the back of the passenger compartment in a flash, talon resting meaningfully on his sidearm. The look on his face seemed mildly impressed for some reason. 

“I suppose there is something more to you than I thought.” He jerked his head towards the hatch. 

I imagine he was as eager to deal with what was happening to  _ his _ galaxy. Maybe it was just as personal as it was for me. It didn’t really matter though, as I had my orders and I now knew where I was. Even after the EA attack, there was a GST presence on the Citadel. Just by being taken here, our likelihood of being exfil’ed shot up significantly. I schooled my features, and headed out the airlock and into the waiting talons of C-sec.

...

Though I’m a fan of the  _ story _ of Mass Effect, I hadn’t ever played the game. I had no idea where on the station I was except that it was one of the C-Sec station houses. I was processed, had my credentials entered (which, once filed, would immediately set off signals throughout the GST Case Officer network) had my holograph taken, and was promptly plopped back in a cell. Never once was a charge filed against me. While I knew it wouldn’t be because I was some ‘great and worthy hero of the cause’, the political shitstorm Gurmpus had set in motion to get his information brought a small smile to my face as my cell door closed.

Two hours later, the cell opened again and a new pair of officers silently escorted me to an interview room. I was chained to the table while sitting in  _ yet another _ uncomfortable Turian chair. I waited another half hour until my interviewer arrived. He was preceded by a wave of rancid beer and cheap cologne, and the human himself was a singularly unimpressive example; gangly, balding but trying to compensate with a bad combover, and all but oozing that special seventies sleeze that only career criminals and dirty cops seemed to master. He was wearing the long-tailed double breasted peacoat of the IAA, an Alliance Intelligence service Schultz had sent a security brief on to all deployed personnel. This one’s name danced just out of reach though.

“Well aren’t you just a precious little punk.” His voice was a grating and nasal as the rest of his presence. He chuckled as he sat down across from me; maybe he thought it was menacing, but it just made me feel dirty. “You have no idea how much trouble you’re in do you?”

“None.”

He sneered at that. “Well let me explain--”

His name finally came to me, from an after action report by Nomad no less. “I meant I’m not in any trouble, or danger; least of all from you, as long as nobody lights a match near you anyway.” 

He leapt out of his seat and grabbed me by the front of my jumpsuit. “Fucking punk! You think this is funny?” Beer and liquor laden spittle rained across my face.

“No, but you are.” I spat some of the spittle off of my lips. “You’re Silas Goodman; one of Harkin’s IAA flunkies. I’d heard that C-Sec was strapped for personnel, but I never thought Palin and Bailey would reinstate an alcoholic like you.” He looked ready to hit me, so I went for the proverbial jugular. “How did you survive Chora’s Den anyway?” 

His eyes widened in shock as he pushed me back into my seat. We Travelers had promised not to reveal any potential future events, but this one had already happened... even if there was no way some random freighter crewman like myself could know.

“Did you hide behind some sturdy piece of furniture or under a corpse? Or is it like one of those high-speed accidents, where the drunk is the only one who survives because they are completely boneless?” His eyes frantically switched back and forth as if looking for any witnesses or a way out. 

I crossed my hands on the table and leaned back. “Let’s face it, Sly;  _ you’re _ here to play bad cop foil to whoever is going to walk through that door next.” 

I nodded at the only door in the room without taking my eyes off of Goodman. I just managed to hide my shock as next second, the door opened. Goodman was unable to hide his surprise as a Salarian with shorter than average horns in a business suit stepped in. He looked teasingly familiar. I really needed to get a hold of an atlas of ‘Who’s Who’ in the galaxy.

Goodman stood to say something when the Salarian tossed a credit chit at him and shot him a disdainful look. “Get out.” 

Once Goodman was banished from the room, the Salarian settled into his vacant seat. We eyed each other over the table. His calculating gaze and my frustrated one dueled over the intervening space.

I didn’t think of the ‘game’ as one either of us were actually playing at, so I forfeited in order to get answers. “I don’t know you, but I think that I should.”

That got me a head tilt. “Interesting; most humans and batarians play at a visual dominance game in this situation.”

I shrugged. “It’s been a long day, and I’m too tired for games at the moment.” If he was willing to speak that candidly about past interrogations, then that was a start.

He squinted and leaned forward. “You owe me a starship.” 

His horns vibrated, accentuating their injury; an injury that looked suspiciously like frostbite recovery. Memories of a frozen world, and a picture on a contract came back to me.

I raised my eyes and smiled. “I don’t see how I could owe you a starship. I mean, the only three ships I’ve ever been responsible for taking from someone in any way,” I leveled a glare on the STG agent in front of me, “were all engaged in open piracy against me. As I doubt you were on either of the two from yesterday, then you would have to have been on the ship in THX-1138; the one lurking near a bait lure in orbit of a gas giant.” His eyes hardened in turn. “The one that demanded we prepare to be boarded or face lethal force without ever identifying themselves. Are you admitting that was you, Captain Varn?”

His look shifted from a glare to a neutral expression. I hoped that meant he was considering his options and not going to try anything overt. “Neither that Frigate, nor that operation were under my command. They would not have ended so poorly otherwise.” I snorted at the ego, though I was happy that I wasn’t having another brain-fart about the names of important figures in the galaxy. “The ship you owe me is the one you used in a raid later that year.”

“I used?” I chuckled while keeping my eyes fixed on his. “I think you’ll find that any raids in recent history that would be of note were carried out by the ‘Revolutionary Daughters of Selene’.”

We seemed to reach a sort of detente at our twin ‘not-admissions’. I didn’t want detente: I wanted freedom for myself and the rest of the crew.

I relaxed my shoulders and smiled slightly, which caused him to tense up. “We seem to be at an impasse, though that is only personal between us. My actions may reflect horrifically against myself, and will likely draw the personal ire of the Council; but yours? An active member of the Military Intelligence service of one of the founding members of the Citadel Accords engaged in open piracy against a legitimate salvage operation? That doesn’t look good for the  _ Union. _ That’s not lost prestige, that’s every species questioning the legitimacy of the Citadel Council as a governing body.”

His horns vibrated again. “Perhaps. Not my concern. My concern is what has been happening on the border of Alliance and Batarian space. My concern is what troubles of yours,” he pointed at me, “are spilling out into the wider galaxy.”

He relaxed and leaned back. “Though I will admit, that first mission was handled poorly. It was a black mark on my record, and the subsequent ‘Wild-Goon Chase’ after the Geth was entirely my doing.”

I wanted to laugh at his strangely appropriate malapropism, but his candor opened a door for me. “Perhaps I can offer you a trade in information? Something I’m certain you have no leads on.” If I could buy time, the GST would get to work on our freedom, but only if the business with Councilor Tevos’ dirty secrets didn’t get out before command was ready for, ‘the Big Reveal’.

He glared at me. “But not on whatever this shadow war your people are fighting in  _ our _ streets, I’m guessing?”

I shook my head. “No, something much more personal: the name and last known location of the individual the Blood Pack were supposed to deliver  _ your _ head to.” His glare evaporated in shock, and I nodded. “They had a contract with your face and directions to bring back your head to receive payment.”

Varn’s look became much more calculating. “Your price?”

“We each abandon our respective feuds with each other.” I waved a still restrained hand. “I don’t expect you to smooth things over with the Council, just stop looking for us.”

His lip curled for a moment, then his face went placid again. “Done.” 

I looked at him, and saw what I  _ hoped _ was sincerity. “His name is Drisk, and at the time we were all on that ice moon together, he was working at or frequenting the Starburst Lounge in Saefos Valley, Illium.”

...

Lt. Grathus stalked through the halls of the Zakera Ward C-Sec command center. It wasn’t that he was particularly angry, it was just how he moved when he wanted to remind people of who he was. Among the Turian people, only the Specter Corps warranted more respect; and after Saren’s outing as a traitor, colluding with a terrorist organization that had attacked the Citadel itself, the Corps’ reputation was no longer as absolute. That left the Black Watch as the most revered and respected military specialist unit in the Galaxy.

Which led to where he was now; stalking through the halls of the C-Sec station house. He’d long since dropped the recovered disc with an agent in the STG who owed him a favor, then he’d toured the presidium for a few hours to allow the human-heavy precinct to ‘do-its-worst’. Maybe you really did need a human to shake up a human. He’d see when he got to the holding center.

He arrived at the processing officer’s desk, said officer sufficiently awed by his command presence. “I’m here for the Human.”

The intake officer blinked myopically as her mandibles fluttered in indecision. “Um... which human sir?” 

It was his turn to blink. “I wasn’t aware there was a selection to choose from?”

“To be fair sir, unless you said, ‘I’m here for the Drell,’ I’d still need you to be at least a little more specific. Perhaps a name?”

Grathus nodded in understanding; this  _ was _ a police holding area in the ward with the most diverse population. “Yes. Lt Ailun Grathus.”

She blinked again without typing. “I meant the detainee, sir.”

All of his scales fluttered in embarrassment.  _ This is why I’m staying career. _ He cleared his throat. “Hiram Abiff.”

She looked at him like he’d been taken in a street game, but typed in the name. Her own crest fluttered as an entry came up. “Ah, here he is. Detective-Agent Goodman transferred him to...” She squinted at the holo-display for a moment, then typed in a few more queries. Her mandibles worked nervously for a moment before she looked back up at Grathus. “Could you take a seat over there for a moment sir?”

Puzzled but respectful of her position, Grathus went over to the bar-seats she’d pointed to and perched patiently. He heard her speak fast and low for a few minutes. Soon after, a grizzled human in the C-Sec uniform walked in.

The man extended his talonless hand out in the Human manner. “You Lt. Grathus?”

“Yes. You must be Detective Goodman.” Between the suddenly iron grip on his talons and the flinch from the intake officer, he knew he’d made a grave error.

“I’m going to assume you are  _ very _ new to the Zakera Ward and let that pass.” The human settled into an almost inspection perfect parade rest. “I’m Lt. Bailey. I’m the duty officer for this precinct. What can the C-Sec do for you this evening?”

The sudden formality told Grathus that he’d likely need to burn at least one more favor to smooth things over tonight. “I’m with the Patrol Frigate Bright Talon. We...temporarily transferred an individual into your holding about four hours ago. A human named Hiram Abiff. Apparently this, ‘Goodman’ moved him somewhere. I need Mr. Abiff back.”

Bailey frowned, or scowled, or had very bad gas; human expressions were so hard to read without frills and mandibles to read. “Goodman signed out sick an hour and a half ago.”

Grathus went rigid while his mandibles buzzed against his jaw. As insufferable as Hiram had been, he had been right about his status as a survivor, not a suspect. If a human star-trader went missing after being unlawfully detained, heads would roll; starting with his.

“Is Mr. Abiff still on premises?”

Bailey looked questioningly at the intake officer who shrugged helplessly. “According to this, he should still be in Interview Three; but Sirs, Sgt. Lithian brought in a Volus on trafficking charges thirty minutes ago and he’s  _ also  _ listed as being in Interview Three.”

Grathus heard Lt. Bailey make a noise he generally only heard from people who had just been hit in the throat. He stabbed his Omnitool on. “Sgt. L’Dasha, I need a location on Agent Goodman;  _ Now! _ ”

<Yessir; I’ll have datacenter check his usual dives.> There was a short break while everyone seemed to be lost in thought about this spectacular fuck-up.  _ How does one human cause so many problems just by existing? _

Bailey’s Omni chirped. <Got him, sir. He’s at ‘Muratho’s Showroom.>

Bailey growled openly. “What did you do, you sleazy sonofabitch?” He noticed Grathus tense up. “Not you. Muratho’s is  _ way  _ outside of his pay grade. This smells of serious kickbacks. You want to come and ask your questions before I cut his Achilles Tendons and drop him in a pit of starving pyjacs?” 

The Lieutenants made their way to the vehicle bay and took an unmarked aircar to the establishment in question. Grathus had assumed that Muratho’s was a brothel, and he was proven right when they stalked through the doors. A mix of species were both in attendance and on display; all in varying states of undress. 

A portly Batarian rushed up to Bailey. “Hey now, officers! To what do I owe this sudden and  _ very visible _ visit?” There was a borderline threat tinged with fear in the owner’s voice.

Bailey huffed while looking around. “Relax Ondrau; I’m here for one of mine, not yours.”

The rotund pimp sagged slightly in relief. “Oh,  _ him. _ He’s out back in ‘private showroom’ three. I don’t care what you do as long as you leave the girl and the furniture alone.”

They made their way back to a series of small private studios, and Lt. Bailey threw open door number three. “Goodman!”

The balding human jumped out of the recliner, launching a nearly naked Asari onto the floor. “Lt! I was--”

“Sick; I saw the duty log.” Bailey looked at the maiden. “You paid by event or time?”

“T-time?” She shivered, covering herself in a very unAsari manner.

“Then take the rest of yours and get a sandwich.” She scurried past the two officers and shut the door to the sound-proofed room behind her, leaving Goodman alone with his pants around his ankles. “You are sick, Goodman; and you make me sick too. There’s a quick cure for that, but first I’ll want to know where Abiff is.”

“A-Abiff, sir?”

Grathus was on him in a flash, pinning him down to the chair. “Hiram Abiff, you waste! The human you had taken to be  _ interviewed _ !”

“Hey-hey-hey!” Bailey stepped up, and Goodman breathed a sigh of relief. “You heard the owner; mind the furniture.”

Grathus looked oddly at Bailey. “Shouldn’t you be trying to restrain me; Isn’t he one of yours?”

Bailey scoffed. “What, Silas here? He’s a treaty booby-prize foisted on me by the IAA. You can do what you want with him, just don’t mess things up with the local businesses.”

Ailun chuckled. “Silly me; you’re quite right.” He hoisted the now soiled human out of the chair and slammed him against a wall. “Now where was I? Oh yes: Hiram Abiff.” The turian stretched his limbs to his full two and a quarter meter height, dragging Goodman up the wall as he did.

Goodman’s feet dangled off the floor as he desperately grasped the Turians arm. “The Salarian! The Salarian took him!”

Bailey slammed a hand on the wall next to Goodman’s head. “ _ Which _ Salarian, you stain?! I don’t have--”

“Did he have short, scarred horns?” Grathus’ voice was soft and very dangerous.

Goodman nodded frantically. “Yeah! I know a killer when I see one. He came in a couple of minutes after I started to interview your man.” He curled slightly at the twin glares. “He tossed a credit chit at me and told me to get lost, so I did-oof!”

Grathus dropped Goodman to the floor and stared blankly at the wall. “Lt, I owe you a debt and an apology for getting you caught up in this.” He turned stiffly towards the door and glanced at Bailey. “If anyone comes asking about Abiff, direct them to me through the ‘Bright Talon’ Ops Officer.” 

Ailun Grathus stalked out to the taxi lot. He wanted to be left alone with his thought for the moment; He had only dropped the disk off with Saelen Varn at the STG monitoring station three hours ago, and never told him what it was about; so why come down in person and take the human away? What was so special about this human that a career STG operative would snatch him out of the C-Sec so brazenly?

He climbed into a recently parked cab. “Presidium, Aranj two. Now.” He dropped a chit into the Volus’ lap. The Aircar took off like a shot.

He stepped out onto the curb in front of an unassuming residence and walked in. He looked over at the clerk at the greeting-desk. “Where’s Varn?”

The young technician blinked for a moment at the Turian who had now called on one of the senior staff twice today. “Capt. Varn finished analyzing the disk you gave us, then put in for a week’s leave.”

Ailun’s mind was going a kilometer a second; whatever was on that disk set Varn on Hiram’s trail,  _ specifically. _ He needed to see what it was that Varn had seen. “Show me the finished analysis.”

He was led to a back room where a holographic monitor displayed the contents of the disk. On a chance, he skipped to the last few entries, and was rewarded with a video log of the last battle of the Frigate ‘Broken Pillar’. It was very edifying:  _ two _ frigates had been lurking in the system, apparently testing some new disruptor torpedo, and jumped a strange modular ship. That ship’s nose was the tapered canister they had found floating near the Batarian ship, so he assumed it was ‘The Marvin’ which Hiram served on. That ship wasted no time in trying to flee, though the way it maneuvered suggested they were more concerned with the strange discus ship flying with the Broken Pillar.

He was genuinely impressed when the Marvin made an in-situ modification to their Star-Drive and lanced the Discus with what he guessed was an Ionizing Laser. It didn’t save them from the new torpedo which seemed to shut them down just as the Pillar’s Captain fired on them in a panic. He continued watching as the Pillar docked and sent over boarders. Less than two minutes later the hull of the marvin burst, spitting out a Turian and a very familiar space-suited figure. The Marvin’s forward model detached and drifted out of sight, and then the log cut as a bright flash originated from the stricken freighter’s aft.

“Very clever.” Grathus frowned at the frozen image on the log. He could see the elements of truth Hiram and the rest of that crew had used to shore up their lie. Which begged the triple questions: who were the Marvin’s crew  _ really _ , what was their history with Capt. Varn, and where had he taken Hiram?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ThePilotArchangel has extended the invitation to any fans of his story to participate. Simply go to his page on FF.net https://www.fanfiction.net/u/8343608/ThePilotArchangel and message him.


	16. The Devil came down to Illium

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nomad was not the first Traveler to be dumped into this Alternate Mass Effect Universe. And he most certainly will not be the last; these are the stories and adventures of the future and current members of the Systems Alliance Group for Specialized Tactics (GST).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The following stories are written as authorized expansions on ThePilotArchangel's "A Ghost and a Specter" story. This particular chapter is part of a series written by myself.

Captain Varn had insisted I go along with him on his Quixotic quest to find Drisk. I know Ezio and the gang had been assigned the followup on the whole Blood Pack Contract mission, but I have no idea how that eventually went down; compartmentalized intelligence and all. I suppose I should count myself lucky that Varn hadn’t insisted on restraining me in some way, but that didn’t change my overall mood. I was still being taken back to Illium, and that was reason enough for me to sulk.

The vehicle we had...valorized for this mission was an older human Themis cargo tramp freighter. It had a few alien markings in eye-catching fluorescent green and red, but otherwise was indistinguishable from any of the thousands of interstellar Big-rigs plying the spaceways. The rear cab was rather spacious and poshly appointed for a utility transport. I imagined the ship belonged to someone who spent a great deal of time on board for work; that, or this was the Citadel equivalent of a  _ shaggin-wagon _ . 

Still, there was one thing about the shuttle that was very familiar; it was slow, and the trip to Illium was going to take a couple of days. I decided to pass the time by rummaging around for something that could be useful in helping me survive; Illium had already tried to kill me twice, and I had no intention of giving it a Hat Trick. 

I managed to open a utility bench interface; it seemed to serve as a combination of personal computer and maintenance workbench. The workbench function had a number of fabrication programs; not up to the Play Pen’s standards back on the Spirit, but enough to allow the ship’s owner to fabricate most parts they’d need to make minor ship repairs. The PC function had a number of files on the desktop, and I opened one out of curiosity.

I gingerly stood up and looked around the cab in concern. “Hey Varn, you wouldn’t happen to have a UV lamp function on your fancy Omni, would you?”

He gave a tired huff and came into the passenger area. “Yes, yes, I have a flashlight. They are very useful in-” He turned the light and panned it around the cab. “We may have a problem. I’ll need to open an investigation into whoever owns this transport.”

I scowled in distaste at the various...artifacts illuminated by the UV lamp. “The only problem we have is finding a clean surface to sit on.” I nodded at the terminal. “The owner has 138 back issues of Fornax loaded on that thing. Help me find some bleach.”

We spent the next two hours sterilizing every interior surface. “Why are all rutting breeders so vile?” Saelen frowned as he stuffed the last of the bed linens into the workstation recycler.

I pointed at him with a spray bottle of disinfectant. “Hey, go blaming us.  _ You’re _ the one who decided to boost the Skeevy Free-Candy Van.” I gave the bench one more swipe and stood up. “There; maybe now I can get down to work.”

“What work?” He must have been as bored as I was; that or he was just being a spy.

I opened the fabrication matrix and began typing. “Tinkering. I’m bored, and when I get bored, I tinker.”

“Tinker?” I could hear the confusion in his tone. 

I reviewed the stored materials and checked on the limits of the machining capabilities. “Yeah, tinker; futz, fidget. It’s a long trip, and I need to keep busy or I’ll go stir crazy.”

Varn growled slightly. “Now you’re just making up nonsense words.”

I opened the PC function and found there was an industrial design simulator for testing designs before building. “Tinker comes from middle English, I think. It’s from an onomatopoeia for someone banging on a sheet of metal, and meant someone who was an unskilled metal worker, or the act of doing so.” I began drawing up the design that I desperately hoped wouldn’t explode in my face; it wasn’t like I could test it for real. “In modern english, it means a hobby craftsman, or doing minor repairs and improvements on equipment.”

I looked back and saw him blinking owlishly at me before his horns vibrated and he glared at me. “You know what would make this trip go faster?” I spun around and looked curiously at him. “If we had a Hyrax shuttle.” He spun on his heel and stalked back to the control cabin. 

I chuckled and turned back to the bench.  _ He isn’t wrong.  _ Shaking my head, I went back to work.

...

I was finished tinkering a few hours before we landed at the aerodrome in Seafos Valley. The pistol I made was a relatively simple single shot design; the only moving parts were the rolling block breech and trigger assembly. The power came from the ammunition, which took the longest to make. It was chemically very simple, but nightmarishly volatile if not handled correctly. Juan would likely kick my ass when he found out I was messing with Hexanitrobenzene. At the end, I had ten shots in a pistol that would provide a  _ very _ rude surprise for anyone reliant on Kinetic barriers for defense.

The other weapon I fabbed up was what the Spirit Sword Club had dubbed a ‘Heavy-Saber’. Even in this bizarre world, nobody wanted to risk the Walt Disney company coming after us for Copyright Infringement. It did conveniently collapse into something the size of an old style C-Cell battery Maglite, and would last for around ten minutes of melee.

The last bit I made was a simple low visibility armored vest. It wouldn’t stop a direct hit with a military grade mass-driver rifle, but it would buy me a fighting chance against the kind of firepower I expected to face in a seedy dive on Illium.

A settled into the copilot’s station and passed a ration bar and a water bottle to Saelen.

“You’re finally done?” There was a little heat in his voice.

“Would you have rather I sat up here with you singing ‘The wheels on the Bus’ or playing ‘I Spy’ for 52 hours?”

He huffed, took his repast and headed back to get an hour of sleep before the auto pilot brought us into Illium’s orbit. Saelen contacted traffic control and had the kind of awkward, stilted conversation you expect of movie spys giving pass codes. It felt very similar to my last trip here with Lee. I just hoped it wouldn’t be nearly that exciting.

“So do you have a plan for this, or are you just going to saunter in there and say, ‘I’m Saelen Varn. Drisk wanted to see me’?”

He gave me a wry smile. “Something like that, yes.”

The Valley region was no less sweltering than Nos Astra, just more humid. Varn seemed to not mind, even draped in an impromptu ‘Dalatrass’ disguise. I was wearing a heavy animal hide jacket we had found in the ship’s locker and carrying a hat box with the last of our food and water so it had the heft of a head in a box.

We sauntered into the Starfire Lounge and made our way back to a semi private booth. Varn pulled his robes a little tighter while I relished the blast of air conditioned bliss. A serving maiden came up to us wearing something more appropriate for the outside weather. “Welcome to Starfire! I’m C’Ndee; can you get us anything?”

I glanced over at Varn who gave the faintest of haughty nods. I looked back at ‘Candy’ and put on my worst wise-guy accent. “Yeah, two glasses of water and Drisk.”

Her demeanor shifted from perky to fearful in a second. “Oh, yes. Right away.”

I leaned back and scanned the crowd. “Well, at least we know he’s here.”

“Yes,” Saelen kept his voice low, “the trick is to get him out past the Civil Protection teams.”

I scowled at the memory of being chased by Illiium’s ‘Gestapo’.

Varn shifted slightly as a Batarian walked over to the table. “You have something for me?”

“Depends,” I shrugged while glancing at the hat box on the table, “you still paying for Salarian heads?”

Drisk kept two eyes on me as he looked at the box with the other two. “Depends on the head. Who’s the Dal?” His gaze flickered to my temporary partner.

I nodded at the box. “Captain Saelen Varn of the STG, and this is someone with a vested interest in Varn’s...disposition”

Drisk licked his lips and looked fully at me. “Yeah, there might be a payday there. I just gotta confirm the head.”

As he reached for the box, Saelen threw his hood back and leveled a pistol at him while I reached over and seized the back of Drisk’s collar. “Sure you can, but I have it on the best authority that  _ this is _ Varn’s head.” I nodded at the Captain. “I hope you don’t mind, but decapitation is so messy. Anyway, do I still get paid?” 

I take solace that the event that followed caught Varn flat footed as well, as the clawed hand of a Krogan grabbed me by the shoulder and tossed me across the room. My grip on Drisk slipped mid flight, and we landed side by side on the dancing-girls’ platform. I rolled right to avoid the charging Krogan as Drisk rolled left and bolted deeper into the club. 

Varn was close on his heels. “Keep him occupied; I’m going after Drisk!”

“Occupied?!” Everyone was rushing for the exits as the Krogan charged again, this time headbuting me in the chest and sending me sprawling onto the floor. 

He stomped up and planted a foot on my stomach, then leaned in. My armor prevented him from crushing my liver, but I couldn't breathe with him standing on me. I desperately grasped for one of my weapons.

“I’m gonna squash you into sausage filling, then bite your little Salarian’s oAHHHH!  **-VMMM-** hissssssss-  **_My quad_ ** **!** ”

A funny thing about cold plasma, is that it isn’t. The interior gas nucleus cloud stays at room temperature, but the outer electron shell of the plasma is hotter than the sun. Those of us members of the Spirit’s Sword Club had learned how to make a cold plasma sword using a core Ferro-nanotube jacketed Carbonfiber rod. My preferred design used two prongs near the grip both to insulate my hands, and shape the plasma into a longsword shape; a shape I had just used to lash out at my attacker’s groin.

He staggered back and tripped over a booth while I coughed and slowly stood up. I was just getting my wind back when my dance partner stood back up and glared balefully at me. I settled into a more formal sword stance and glared back at him. “How much are you getting paid?”

The Krogan stared cross eyed at the glowing white brand pointing at him. “Not nearly enough to lose a quad over.”

I nodded to the exit. “Then might I suggest you head behind the bar, grab yourself a severance package and call it a day. Drisk isn’t going to be signing any more paychecks.”

The small bull klacked his jaw shut. “Hell, that’s a better deal than Drisk offered me.” He hobbled over to the bar and began loading up on bottles. Once he was staggering out the door, I shut my sword off to conserve power and headed for the back. 

I found Varn staring at Drisk through some barrier. “Ha! You don’t know who you’re messing with! I have friends in the Civil Protection Force, the Terminus Pirates, some even your precious STG hasn’t heard of! When I’m done with you, you’ll be begging me to put you up on the slave blocks! Hahahahaha!”

I looked over at Varn, who scowled balefully at Drisk. “Kinetic Barrier is vehicle grade,” he flicked his coat tail at it, causing it to spark, “and actively charged. The device itself is analogue controlled; no possibility to hack it.”

I looked into the room and saw Drisk standing next to a whirring, glowing generator-ish device with several switches on top. I pulled out my pistol and loaded a round. “That it?” 

“Hahaha! Isn’t it wonderful?!” Drisk gloated. “It’s a gift from my newest benefactors; completely impervious to modern intrusion and--”  **-FZACK- “** Ah!” He dove away as the generator suddenly developed a 5mm molten hole and began sparking and shaking. Moments later, both it and his shield died.

Varn rushed in and tackled Drisk to the floor. Once restrained (and gagged) he looked at the pistol in my hand.

I calmly cleared the breech and loaded another shell. “Explosive Pumped Gas Dynamic Laser. My people have had designs for them since the 1970’s, but the material engineering was never up to snuff.” I holstered the weapon and stepped aside. “We should leave before any of Drisk’s supposed ‘friends’ shows up.”

We were dragging Drisk behind us through the lobby on a pallet dolly when the main entrance was blocked by four figures.

“I’m afraid I can’t let you take him,  _ Bon ami. _ ”

I nearly choked at the familiar voice, as a stocky woman stepped forward. “Put the Batarian back where you found him, and we  _ might  _ let you off with a little rough treatment.” She and a second male both cracked their knuckles.

Varn was shifting to go for his gun when my hands flopped to my sides. “Ezio? Battery?”

Battery blinked in the poor lighting and squinted. “Hira...Goddamnit!” she threw her hands in the air in frustration while Rambro all but collapsed on the ground in laughter. 

...

We all sat at one of the round booths. “So Drisk is one of ours now?” I had dropped all pretense by this point, as the Ghosts with me were equally candid in Captain Varn’s presence.

“ _ Oui _ , flipped like a coin once we got our hands on him.” The entire team chuckled while sipping drinks. Drisk was still restrained on the cart, glaring daggers at everyone present. Ezio looked over at Varn. “I must say  _ Mon ami, _ you led us on a merry chase that day.” He saluted the STG Captain with a glass of wine.

Varn sulked over his glass of beer. I’m certain he’d say he was ‘brooding’, or ‘considering his options’, but he was sulking. “So glad I provided you with such good  _ sport _ .” He finished his drink. “So now what. You won’t let me take one of your assets, and my career is on the line with getting these answers.”

Ezio smiled graciously. “ _ Bon ami _ , what he knows,” he gestured towards Drisk, “I know. And I already know the answer to your question, so we need only a  _ little _ reciprocity from you and you can walk away from here with the information you seek.”

I finished my drink and stood up. “This conversation started above my paygrade, and if it goes any higher I’ll be able to catch a ride on a passing comet.” I looked over to Varn. “I take it you’re going to keep the Free-Candy-Van?” He frowned in distaste, but nodded. “That’s fine. The designs for the pistol are still in the Work Bench; just make sure you wipe it before you leave it to be recovered.”

“The data, or the bench itself?” His lips almost tugged at something resembling a grin.

“Both, just to be sure.” I looked over at Ezio. “And that means I need a ride back to the Citadel to get the rest of my crew back.”

Every member of GT Ezio glanced at each other; Ezio nodded to Min Ji and Rambro who stood and led me towards the exit. “Come on  **boet** ; getting the rest of Jawa isn’t your job, and we need to make a supply run anyway.”

Min Ji put a gentle but firm hand on my back. “You still need a formal debrief, and there’s a lot that has happened since you were back on station.”

I didn’t resist as they led me out, though I did look back and forth between them. “I’ve been gone two weeks; how much can have happened?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ThePilotArchangel has extended the invitation to any fans of his story to participate. Simply go to his page on FF.net https://www.fanfiction.net/u/8343608/ThePilotArchangel and message him.


	17. Flight Control to Major Tom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nomad was not the first Traveler to be dumped into this Alternate Mass Effect Universe. And he most certainly will not be the last; these are the stories and adventures of the future and current members of the Systems Alliance Group for Specialized Tactics (GST).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The following stories are written as authorized expansions on ThePilotArchangel's "A Ghost and a Specter" story. This particular chapter is part of a series written by myself.

The ride back to the Spirit was on  _ yet another _ Kodiak shuttle. The issue with Kodiaks at FTL speeds, is they aren’t purpose designed for that. They rattle and shake like an old pickup on a back-woods dirt road. This makes getting any rest on one nearly impossible unless you’re dead tired. After the last few days of cramped quarters and manic running around, I was desperately looking forward to my little coffin-bed in the enlisted barracks.

We came through the last FTL leg into the Spirit’s exclusion zone and took the normal route in front of her main gun. “Spirit Approach Control, this is GTS-011 on vector 2-7; requesting docking clearance, how copy over?”

“GTS-011, Spirit Approach Control; maintain current vector for overflight and escort, over.”

I frowned and looked at Min and Rambro. “That’s new. We get actionable intel that EA was making a play at the Spirit or something?”

Min just frowned while looking ahead, though Rambro sent me a tired look. “You remember how Command had the idea to find a way to fully man the Spirit?” I caught a glimpse of something flashing in the distance. I expected one of the Halo inspired Mantaray gunships, but instead two Systems Alliance interceptors zipped up to us. “Well  _ Lannie _ Grant did it, and now The Spirit is an official Systems Alliance Military post; complete with all the politics that go with that. Prepare yourself  _ Boet. _ ”

We were escorted towards one of the rear docks, and I could see most of the Star-Bugs nestled under the ship’s frame. I also saw several Kowloon freighters in station keeping alongside the Spirit, while swarms of Kodiaks and Themis’ ferried what I assumed was material and personnel over to our home. It was the most activity I’d ever seen around the Spirit. The escort peeled off and we were grabbed by the ship’s automated docking system and brought on board.

The aft bay was much more crowded than I remembered; the bay floor was a constant shuffle of shuttles being loaded, unloaded, serviced for quick turns or moved to the elevators up to the maintenance bay. As soon as we stepped off, Sykes, the Drell Deck Boss waved us over just before a crane snatched our shuttle and moved it to the elevator.

“Welcome home,” he yelled over the din of the hangar floor. He nodded at Min and Rambro. “Lucky Number Seven has your supplies and is getting topped off. You’ve got an hour and a half before your launch window.” The Ghosts smiled in thanks and headed towards the crew-rest area we all called the USO Lounge.

He turned to me and glanced at the tablet he was holding. “You’re needed in debrief.”

I gave a tired smile. “I’ll head there after--”

Sykes shook his head. “Not ‘after’, now. Word from on high is Arc and Shultz are shitting kittens over what’s happening, so do not pass go, do not collect $200. Just head straight to Personnel.”

I put up my hands in surrender and walked deeper into the ship; if this was more of a priority than turning my new toys to the armory, then so be it.

I felt a little bit like I was seeing the Spirit for the first time as I headed deeper into the crew areas. The ship felt crowded, and everywhere I looked there were new faces, all human. It was odd to think about, but only a quarter of all travelers came over as human. It still made us the largest single demographic, but not the majority by any stretch. I was drawing equally odd looks as I was still in the Turian overalls and leather trench coat get-up. 

A pair of MPs started following me as I approached the Intel Center. Thankfully most of the access security on the ship was handled biometrically, since all my effects were either in quarters or sitting as trace evidence in the hold of the Bright Talon. I rested my palm on the recessed scanner and waited for the DNA profile match, then left my shadows behind. 

The Personnel Tasking center was no less crowded, though there were fewer new faces. I still received a few aside glances, but the number of ‘Hey Hiram’ and ‘Welcome back’ greetings I got kept the questions at bay. I headed into the debrief office myself and the rest of Jawa usually used, sat down, rested my hands on my lap, and waited.

I didn’t wait long, but the man who came through the door wasn’t Bene Said or any of the other handlers I was familiar with. He was nattily dressed in a current chic turtleneck and sports coat that looked to have an omnitool integrated into the cloth of the sleeve. It was actually very nice.

He sat down, tapped his Omnisleeve and brought up a holographic file. “Alright, my time is important so let’s get through this quick.” He absently swiped through pages before settling on one in particular. “Well, haven’t you been a naughty boy? Failed to return from your last mission unlike the rest of your Goffer fleet, turned up in a C-Sec holding cell, then finally drifted in from Illium of all places.” He swiped the screens closed and finally looked towards me, but not actually  _ at  _ me. “So what do you have to say for yourself?”

After about five seconds of silence, he finally looked over. I don’t know what he expected to see, but my disinterested stare was probably not it. He leaned forward to glare at me. “I asked you a question.” His posture and tone of voice spoke of someone who was certain of their uncontested authority.

I gave my best patronizing smile. “I know, I heard.” I waited for the inevitable scowl, and there it was. “What I didn’t hear was one of  _ my _ superiors telling me you had a need to know.”

The way he shivered at that confirmed he was someone unaccustomed to being challenged. He was like one of those, ‘the rules get in the way of justice’ TV and movie cops from the old life. The fact that he was here and knew I had been on the Citadel led me to believe he was IAA, or closely aligned with them.

I shrugged. “Maybe a little professional reciprocity is in order. You answer one of my questions, and I’ll do the same.” He started to relax slightly. “How’s Goodman doing? Last I saw him, he was scurrying off clutching a credit chit that Salarian tossed him like Gollum and the One Ring.” 

This guy must have exclusively dealt with EA or people from the Caliphate systems, because he had  _ no _ poker face. He actually gritted his teeth. I almost wondered if he was actually a very good actor, because he was comically easy to manipulate. On the off chance he  _ wasn’t _ a good actor and just a bad spook, I palmed the Heavy-Saber.

Before either of us could act, the door opened again as Bene Said and Colonel Schultz came in. “That’s quite enough  _ Herr  _ Pietro.  _ Herr _ Abiff,  _ guten tag. _ ” He extended a hand and looked at me meaningfully.

I stood and handed the Saber, the pistol and it’s ammunition over, much to Pietro’s growing alarm. “In my defense, Sykes was rather insistent I come here first.”

Schultz gave me a deadpan look, then sighed and pocketed the weapons. “That he did.” He gestured for me to sit, then extended a bench for himself and the IAA Agent.

Once I was seated, Bene passed a tablet to me with a list of legaleze. “Agent Pietro and others you will be formally introduced to later are now assigned to the Spirit of Fire as part of the Joint Service operations against Ehyan Allah. They are authorized access to intelligence pertaining to those operations, and may have their Need-to-Know expanded on a case by case basis.”

I read through the list, then pressed my thumb on the acknowledgement and handed the tablet back. She opened a second page and set the tablet back on the table. “Very good. Tell us about your last operation.”

I reported everything that had happened to us and the Marvin, the sighting of the second BoP, the EMP weapon, sabotaging the Batarian Frigate, and our subsequent ‘rescue’ by the Turian Frigate Bright Talon. After that, I crossed my hands on the table and waited patiently.

Agent Pietro had remained silent during the report, but began fidgeting as the quiet dragged on. He looked about to speak when he  _ finally  _ noticed Schultz giving him, ‘The Look(tm)’. He actually growled as he realized we were all waiting for him to leave. He stood up stiffly and stormed out. Once the door closed, I gave both Bene Said and the Colonel my own look. 

“Is IAA picking these people off the streets or something? Between Petie there and Goodman over on the Citadel, Harkin’s people do not impress.”

Schultz seemed nonplussed at my assessment. “There is a great deal of internal politics involved in the postings. All of IAA’s better veteran agents are on missions in Caliphate space or analysis centers on Arcturus and Earth. 

“Speaking of Agent Goodman,” Bene opened a new page on the tabet, “how  _ did _ you end up in C-Sec custody, and where is the rest of your crew?”

I spared no details in recounting the remainder of my recent adventures.

Schultz pursed his lips. “Compromising Drisk is unfortunate, but you had no  _ need  _ to know and therefore no  _ way _ to know.” Left unsaid was the possibility of having an in with the STG through Varn if Ezio came through. “We should have the rest of your crew released in short order. We have some new resources on the Citadel, and push-comes-to-shove we can have the Alliance put direct pressure on the Council.” 

Bene shut her tablet off and stood up. “In the meantime, get a meal, a  _ shower, _ ” she wrinkled her nose at me, “and some sleep.”

Schultz stood as well. “When you’re up for it, head down to the armory with Capplan. She’ll be very interested in this.” He gently tossed the pistol back, along with the ammo and the sword. 

I secured my kit, saluted, and headed out. As Bene had suggested, my first stop was the Galley. While the Mess for engineering crews was closer, the one for portside drop operations was a more direct route. Once there, I experienced something I hadn’t since first coming to the Spirit: waiting in line for a meal. 

Once again, my odd attire earned me some strange looks, but there were at least two Retrieval Teams and one Ghost Team who were also between missions, and therefore out of uniform. Teams ‘Golden Snitch’ and ‘Where’s my Car’ were huddled around a holo playing on someone’s Omnitool, while Ghost Team Kieje looked like they hadn’t slept in a week. Metiko in particular had a gauze bandage wrapped around his head, covering one of his ears. The only other traveler was Case Officer Broyles, though he was in uniform and shifting through hard-copy reports.

The menu that night was an attempt at Salisbury Steak made from what we Travelers had taken to calling ‘bird-chuck’, since the digitally printed protein slabs kicked out by the galley food processors had a consistency we all agreed must be similar to whatever it was momma birds regurgitated for their chicks. The Army GROPOs reacted like it was the height of decadence. I wondered how they’d react when the Holiday Season rolled around and we broke out the stores of imported Elysium farm geese and Elcor  _ Whurlok _ steak. 

I wandered to a table near enough to the other Travelers to make our association clear, but not so close as to intrude. I received a few nods, and we all settled back into our routines. I nibbled on a fried starch stick, then sprinkled some salt on it and nibbled some more. I gave up at that point and just glared at the offending foodoid.

“Just dip them in the gravy; it’s there to mask flavors anyway.”

I looked up at the faintly british accent to see an SA NCO wearing a Sikh’s  _ Dastar  _ turban, there were several other soldiers hovering behind him.

I tried as he had suggested, and found that while the texture was still off, the sauce was the only thing I tasted. I smiled as I chewed and gestured to the table. “Have a seat; you’ve saved my dinner, so the least I can do is play host. Technical Sergeant Hiram Abiff.” I extended my hand.

He nodded in thanks and shook my hand. “Staff Sergeant Karanverr Singh Raja.” He sat, and the rest with him followed suit. They weren’t all Sikh, but their uniforms all had the same badge: a pair of crossed lances with a crown on top, and the number three over the intersection.

I nodded to the badge worn on the Sergeant’s Dastan. “I don’t know a lot of unit insignia, but the design of that one looks familiar.”

Sgt. Raja’s face lit up. “Ah! This is the insignia of the 3rd Madras Lancers. We will be celebrating our 400th anniversary this year!” For the next hour, I relaxed at the Sergeant extolled the heroics of his storied unit. I learned a great deal, including that his was one of two mechanized regiments assigned to the Spirit, the other being the Armored Reconnaissance Regiment out of Accra, Ghana. There was also an Aerospace wing from Benning in the Arcturus system. 

After nearly an hour, a chime sounded from his Omni. “Oh well, it appears I am needed elsewhere.” We all stood as he extended his hand for me. “I hope we meet again.”

I shook his hand and smiled. “ _ I  _ hope that meeting is not work related.” He gave a booming laugh, then led his troops off to their next destination. 

I looked at my empty tray, and decided that aside from one more thing, it was time for bed. I headed over to the personnel comms center, and placed an audio call.

_ “Hello?” _

“Is this Kala D’Lano?”

She gave an exasperated laugh.  _ “You’re going to worry that joke to a nub, aren’t you?” _

I smiled and leaned into the privacy booth. “Until the day it stops making you smile.”

...

A benefit of being on one of the Special Duty Teams, was our operational hours were not particularly fixed; especially after a mission. We generally had 24 hours to decompress, shower, eat, sleep, and visit the Chaplain if needed. I thought about it, and a part of me said I didn’t need to. 

I was at Capt. Dube’s office 20 minutes later. 

Once my head was clear again, I went to the armory to see Warrant Officer Capplan as the Colonel had suggested during my debrief. We spent the next eight hours tackling the basics and math of my design, as well as ways to improve its utility and functionality. The weapon we came up with was, in a word, scary. It lacked the sheer punch of the Beowulf, but not by much, and its ability to ignore Kinetic Barriers was a major advantage. Combined with it’s simple mechanical design that could be electronically enhanced, it promised to be a major advantage in engagements with more technically savvy opponents.

“Definitely a boon to not have to worry about someone hacking our guns.” I admired our prototype LR/C-1k: Laser Rifle/Chambered, 1 Kilowatt.

Sarah huffed in satisfaction. “That or shut them down.” I glanced over at her curiously, and she looked back both sheepish and pensive. “You didn’t hear it from me, but it looks like the EA figured out how to disable any Mass Effect technology.”

“Isn’t that the same thing as hacking?” I had a sinking suspicion, but I wanted it confirmed before I made any assumptions.

Sarah Capplan huffed and leaned on the work table. “I don’t understand coding, but that isn’t really the issue; it’s the hardware that’s the problem. It’s all meant to be compatible with Eezo based electronics: every computer, gun, ship, all of it.”

“So when their device goes off it’s, what; primed to some universal signal?”

She walked over to a collapsed ME Rifle. “Yeah, the one given out by energized Eezo. And since all Citadel tech came from the same basic design source, and we just happily built on that base design...”

I looked at the Eezo tech all around us. “We fell for the fucking trap.”

She nodded and tossed the rifle back onto the bench. “We fell for the fucking trap.”

...

Everyone was gathered in one of the amphitheaters,  _ every one  _ of the amphitheaters. As part of the Special Duty Team section, I and all the other Retrieval and Ghost Teams, as well as all the duty section leaders and senior staff were all in the main auditorium as the new Command Staff gave their first joint brief. 

“Room! Aten-hut!” Every attendee snapped to their feet. Captain Maureen Firnan marched up to the dias at the front between Colonel Schultz, and the recently arrived General Hiram Grant. The last to mount the steps were a Persian Systems Alliance Army Brigadier General, and a lean Asian woman in the Long Coat and jackboots of the IAA.

General Grant stepped up to the podium. “At ease; take your seats.” There was a general shuffling as everyone settled in. “For those who don’t know me, I am General Hiram Grant: Systems Alliance Special Operations Command. You all have been assigned to this Joint Service Operational Command, the SSV Spirit of Fire. The purpose of this operational command, is to answer the expanding threat posed by the  _ Ehyan Allah _ terrorist organization, and any other macro-galactic threat which may arise in the near term.”

He began pacing the dias. “The core of this program is the Group for Special Tactics, or GST. You will have encountered some of them in your inprocessing and acclimation to this ship. At present, about half of all operational teams are deployed, so you will see more new faces as time goes on.

“You will see strange things while on board; this organization lives up to its name, and emphasizes novel tactics and strategies. We welcome fresh ideas and new perspectives, so don’t hesitate to step forward if you have a crazy idea.” I caught a glance Schultz sent my way.

General Grant continued. “Because we are both on the cutting edge, and the tip of the spear, we undergo regular material shifts as new technologies are developed,” he paused and looked out over the crowd, “both by us, and by our adversaries.”

He leaned heavily on the podium. “At present, we are actually on the back foot in this regard. We have actionable intelligence from multiple sources, both from deployed teams and allied intelligence services, that  _ Ehyan Allah _ has developed a system which is capable of neutralizing  _ any  _ Eezo based system, both technological and organic.”

The crowd shifted nervously and looked around. “We have seen examples of this technology used both on a tactical infantry scale, and in a limited space engagement. Thankfully at present, we have had no enduring casualties. However complacency kills. Through our economic partnership with Skell Tech, we are in the process of developing Eezo hardening systems for our fleet and mechanized assets. That unfortunately leaves a gap in infantry coverage, and there are no indications at this time, that biotics can be effectively shielded.”

Grant pushed off and began pacing again before the crowd could become any more agitated. “We are not however, without our resources. There is demonstrable evidence that these effects are temporary, and limited in scope. Additionally, the GST has a sizable arsenal of weapons systems which have proven insensitive to these Eezo Disruptor Devices. Attached infantry units will receive a full issue of new Exoskeleton Armor Carrier Frames, as well as our own Beowulf ChemRail and LR/C weapons systems, as stocks become available.” I raised my eyebrows at the sudden turnover in mine and Sarah’s design, though I expected command would limit the issue of the ‘Lurky’ guns until they were more field proven. 

“Beyond this ladies and gentlemen, I will only say welcome to the fight. Dismissed.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ThePilotArchangel has extended the invitation to any fans of his story to participate. Simply go to his page on FF.net https://www.fanfiction.net/u/8343608/ThePilotArchangel and message him.


	18. Mr. Abiff goes to Washington

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nomad was not the first Traveler to be dumped into this Alternate Mass Effect Universe. And he most certainly will not be the last; these are the stories and adventures of the future and current members of the Systems Alliance Group for Specialized Tactics (GST).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The following stories are written as authorized expansions on ThePilotArchangel's "A Ghost and a Specter" story. This particular chapter is part of a series written by myself.

“Alright, let’s go over the arguments one more time.” Sarah Capplan sat across from me in the executive shuttle on the last leg of our trip to Earth. “Cost for new manufacturing?”

“Polycarbonates and ceramics are both easier to omni-fabricate than metallics, and the lack of integral Eezo reduces material costs to 1/4 per unit over comparable Devlon Industries weapons.” With the rest of Jawa still at the Citadel due to what I can only describe as ‘political shenanigans’, I was in a bit of a state of limbo.

“Advantages over existing weapons systems?” Command’s solution, both to keep me occupied and out of mischief, was to send me and WS-1 Capplan back to Earth to pitch the new Chambered Laser system to the procurement board.

“Greater per shot power over any current market model in any given class except the Beowulf .50, unaffected by kinetic barriers, zero detectable emissions before and after firing, low cyclic rate means passive cooling sufficient to maintain continuous operations, and simplicity of design/minimal moving parts means maintenance is so simple, an infantryman could do it.” 

Sarah mock-scowled at me. “Watch it, buddy; I resemble that remark.”

So here I was, riding a shuttle carrying what was possibly the most advanced, state-of-the-art arsenal of 1970’s laser technology. 

I glanced towards the flight deck. “There’s going to be a lot of Brass and business there. You the senior rank here; shouldn’t you be the one making the pitch?”

She leaned back and rested her hands behind her head. “You’re right; I do outrank you, so I’m delegating the obnoxious part of this job to you, while I get to shoot.”

I scoffed. “Oh sure, take the easy job why don’t you.” She chuckled and closed her eyes. “Do we know who’ll be there?”

She shrugged. “I supposed the usual assortment of industry shills and lobbyists, plus reps from all the branches.”

“Do we know if the Citadel’s sending anyone?”

That got her to open her eyes and frown. “I’m pretty sure Armax and Serrice Council each have someone at every one of these events.”

I pulled up the guest list and scrolled through. “I’ve got a Mr. M. Vestian and a Ms. K’Vant. What do we have from them?”

She started typing. “Don’t forget about Devlon Industries. We’re taking a poke at their market share.”

I nodded and looked through. “Based on the seating arrangement, I have a Mr. LeVoirsiere, no titles but he’s nested right in amongst the Generals.”

She smirked. “Yup; Francois LeVoirsiere, technical advisor to the Parliament Procurement Oversight Committee and,” she whistled, “5% shareholder.”

I frowned at that. “That would definitely give him a seat at the table.” I looked at Sarah. “We’re set in the event they try some good old fashioned skullduggery?”

She gave me a humorless grin and patted the crates between us. “Command is counting on it. The rumor I heard was that Old man Grant was getting so much pushback from Devlon for not subcontracting the Beowulf production lines, or exclusively equipping with Devlon’s equivalent of Mil-Spec, that there was a threat against his family.” She smirked at my expression. “It’s true! I heard Irene from GT Gator talking about a corporate hatchet job she and the rest of the Amazons were tasked to, ‘from the Top’. Her words.”

I whistled. “I know some Ghosts are given to bluster, but Lilly’s crew? If you heard it from one of the Amazons, then I’ll take it as Gospel.” 

I looked worriedly at Sarah, and she seemed to understand my meaning. “Don’t worry, they won’t try anything at the Demo in Ochsenboden; the Swiss would  _ destroy _ Devlon, and the UN still has enough sway that the SA would be forced to respond if foreign companies started messing with a neutral state.” She looked around absently. “If they try anything, it’ll be at that shindig in Alexandria Wednesday night.”

My hackles went up at that. “They’d better not! I invited Kala to that ‘shindig’ as my plus-one, and  _ she _ hinted that Ziva’Lorah would be attending. If either one of them gets hurt because of any of these asshats, then consequences be damned; I’m fucking somebody up.”

...

If I had any doubts this was an op, and not an actual sales pitch, they were removed by the advice Sarah gave me for the actual demo: “Ham it up, and take a poke at Devlon, Armax and Cerice every chance you get.” 

She had raised an eyebrow at the supplies I requested in return, but assured me they’d be available.

Which is how we ended up at the old Rheinmetall Proving Grounds in Ochsenboden Switzerland, with a half dozen mannequins made out of various melons and gourds wrapped in standard Systems Alliance armor and shields, courtesy of Devlon Industries.

I took a calming breath as I stood in front of the array of some of the most powerful people in the Systems Alliance, as well as several very powerful and wealthy individuals from the wider galaxy I had the dubious task of pissing off. I took another calming breath.

“Ladies, Gentlemen and visiting representatives, may I present to you the Melon Lord Honeydew the First and his House Gourd.” There was some light chuckling from the crowd. “Lord Honeydew has many enemies, so he has equipped himself in the finest armor and shielding money can buy. He’s a bit of a skinflint about everything else, so the House Gourd have to make do with Devlon Industries.” The chuckling this time was not so sparse, including from Ms. K’Vant and Mr. Vestian. Mr. LeVoirsiere didn’t seem nearly so impressed with my wit. 

“Ms. K’Vant, if I may impose on you for a second?” She stood hesitantly at being called up. “I’d like to burrow one of your executive defense generators.” She balked slightly, so I poured on the charm. “I promise to return it in as good of condition as you give it me; if I break it, I’ll buy it. If it’s undamaged once I’m done, then everyone will know it’s worth.” 

“Very well, but I will hold you to your word.” She unclipped a broad, curved plate hanging around her neck. “These are not inexpensive.”

I took the device I was certain cost a year’s salary with hazard pay. “A Gorget; how very baroque.” I headed over to ‘Lord Honeydew’, attached and activated the barrier generator and headed back to the equipment table.

I gestured to where Sarah was readying a pistol to shoot at the ‘targets’. “Now we are going to first demonstrate that these are indeed live shields with a standard Mass Driver pistol from Armax Arsenal, and...” I glanced at my tablet as if consulting something. “My apologies; this is actually an antique on loan to us from a private collection.” I looked at the crowd and gave a chagrined smile. “I’m sure you can forgive me. It’s an easy mistake to make, considering there have been no real innovations in Infantry weapons systems in nearly five centuries.” I actually heard Vestian’s mandibles buzz like a nest of angry hornets.

I nodded to Sarah, and she dutifully fired into the dummies, eliciting the familiar blue glow of infantry barriers.

“We, collectively,” I gestured to include the entire audience, “have become complacent in technological design. We tell ourselves that there have been no new advancements, because there are none left to make. We accept a demonstrably inferior system,” I motioned to Sarah and the pistol she was putting down next to several closed cases, “because until recently, no one has challenged us to consider any other options. We have all seen the reports, and complacency is no longer an option.”

Sarah set down the antique and began opening the cases for the crowd to see. There were three weapons: a sleek but sizable pistol, an equally sleek submachine gun with a stock and foregrip, and a bullpup rifle. All were flat black and glossy white. She loaded each, then took the pistol to the firing line.

“We need to adapt.”

She fired off three shots into the pumpkin ‘head’ of each ‘House Gourd’. The exploded gourd setting off the neighboring dummy’s K-barrier let the crowd know they were still running.

“We must innovate.”

Sarah switched out to the submachine gun and fired a burst into each of the ‘House Gourd’s chest plates, causing the armor to shatter under the thermal impulsive shock. The K-Barriers never flickered except against the shrapnel.

“We must move out of the old models of thought regarding infantry equipment, or we will be left behind.”

She finally took up the rifle. She fired a single shot into ‘Lord Honeydew’s head, which exploded spectacularly. She then fired several controlled bursts into the body of the dummy, blasting the remains into pieces. The crowd was absolutely silent.

Once she had cleared and safed the weapons, I walked over to the remnants of ‘Lord Honeydew’, and retrieved the Executive Barrier Generator. It was still humming and glowing when I turned around to show the crowd. I switched it off as I walked over to Ms. K’Vant, who stood stiffly. I pressed the device into her hand. “As I promised, not a scratch.”

She was excellent at controlling her expression, but the shield flickered to life from the biotic energy she was emitting. At that, her eyes flashed in some emotion I could only guess at, since anger couldn’t adequately describe it..

All in all, between the open hostility from the three corporate shills and the excited whispers from the rest of the crowd, I considered the demonstration to be a rousing success.

...

The Weapon’s demo was, in my mind, a qualified success; mostly because I spent half my time fielding genuinely interested questions, and the other half with the three corporate players trying to glare me to death. I was hardly the only demonstration being put on, but the pitches by Devlon and Armax were both marred by my earlier, very intentional slights. I was very thankful that we had a day to just tour around the Alpine region before heading to Alexandria, Virginia for the formal presentation and gala event. An event I had no knowledge of before being deployed, and for which I had felt wholly unprepared. 

I fidgeted with my Mess Dress coat. The row of awards was understandably small, but there were a number of badges I had to look up. There was also a single campaign flash under my Staff Sergeant’s stripes. All in all, it seemed incongruous with the Joint SOCOM badge I was authorized to wear. It felt surreal. At least Capplan had come through on one uniform item I had requested.

“Is that a dead rodent hanging off your waist, or are you just happy to see me? And why are you wearing a skirt?”

I turned to face Kala, who had just come into the hotel ensuite bedroom wearing what I could best describe as liquid moonlight. “A little of both. And it’s a Kilt, not a skirt.” I brushed the green and blue Worsted wool panel, allowing the Joint SOCOM badge to thump against my knee. I walked up to her, admiring the holographically and Eezo enhanced dress. I imagined I’d have a better chance buying Ms. K’Vant’s shield generator than the dress in front of me. “Is that what you’re wearing, because I can’t tell if you’re actually wearing anything.”

Kala gave me a smirk and a saucy pose. “Would you like to check?”

I was sorely tempted to, but I shook my head. “Not if we want to meet up with Ziva on time. You might be able to talk her off the ledge, but I’ve spent the better part of two days making enemies, I don’t need any more this evening.”

Kala gave a theatrical sigh. “Alright. If you’re done preening, I suppose we can head out.”

“One last thing.” I pulled a subcompact version of the pistol Sarah and I had demonstrated earlier that week, as well as a spare magazine, and tucked them into a holster deep within the pleats of the kilt.

Kala looked at me with a little concern. “When you say you’ve been making enemies...”

I stood still, one hand clenched in a fist and the other open. I sighed in relief when she took my hand and pulled me into a hug. “We could just say you used your Asari wiles and bewitched me.”

She gave me a squeeze, then stood back while holding my hand. “You’d never forgive yourself. Come on; I can’t conspire with Ziva if we don’t meet her in the lobby.”

…

“Hiram! Kala! It is so good to see both of you!” Kala broke away and hugged Ziva, who was in the more formal  _ Seemas  _ than the regular  _ Realk _ . The robe-like navy blue garment was patterned with silver leaves, not unlike the silk of a Japanese Kimono. Her eyes glowed warmly behind a sapphire mask. 

She turned towards me and I assumed she smiled. I had gotten so used to the Travelers onboard the Spirit not wearing their masks. “Hello again Hiram.” Her eyes flashed behind her mask, and this time I knew she was smiling; or at least smirking. “Nice knees.”

I waved her off. “Oh, you don’t have to sugar coat it. I’m pasty enough to be seen from orbit. I need to get some sun.”

Kala rolled her eyes and came back over. “Alright, let's head to the banquet hall so we can start schmoozing and snacking.” She pulled me along, with Ziva following in our wake.

As soon as we were past the weapons scanners (which didn’t go off to my equal delight and concern) and inside the dining hall, Ziva begged off for a moment to talk to an elderly human in the Naval White Mess Dress of a Flag Officer.

Kala interrupted my question before I asked. “That’s Commodore Hand; she’s the Dean of the Biomedical Research Center at Walter Reed where Ziva’s interning.”

I nodded sagely while glancing around. Ziva’s intent was clear now: if she was seen conversing with a Flag Officer, then nobody would dare question a ‘Suit-Rat’ being at an event like this. Even here on Earth, some of the galactic prejudices still crept in. This was especially prevalent when I caught sight of Matarius Vestian and Horay K’Vant. They were both looking with open, but silent disdain at Ziva. Their attention swiftly shifted to me. I gave them both a jaunty wave, and was rewarded when I saw sparks actually jump off of the Asari onto her Turian dining partner, who himself jumped in ‘shock’. They both immediately stalked over to the open bar.

I felt a mild charge coming off of Kala and glanced over. She gave me a mildly concerned side-eye. “You weren’t kidding about ‘making enemies’. I haven’t seen one of my own kind throw a tantrum like that since I was in primary school.”

Ziva came up behind us and looked at the retreating Citadel business persons. “She’s pretty. Making friends the GST way?”

I snorted and tightened my arm around Kala. “Coral Snakes are pretty, and I’d rather have one of those hanging off my arm than Ms. K’Vant.” I shook my head and looked around. “Let’s find our seats so we can hit the buffet before the speeches start.” 

Once seats were located and appetizer plates filled, we settled in to wait. “So,” Ziva delicately sipped a tube of purified something, “What brings you back down to Earth, and might you have any idea when I can expect August?”

Kala put a hand over my plate to prevent me from dodging the conversation by stuffing my face.

I sighed and rested my hands on the table. “For the second question, I don’t know. August’s work is so far above my pay grade it’s not even funny. I can pester him when I see or hear from him, but that’s about it. As for the first,” my face fell at the thought of the rest of Jawa in a Turian holding center or a C-Sec Cell while I was wining and dining. “My team’s out of commission for the moment, so Command decided to send me back here to sell some of our tech ideas to the brass.” I glanced at the table with DeVoirsiere, K’Vant and Vestian. “It just so happens that those ideas are going to turn a lot of tactics, strategies and logistics on their heads, so the major arms companies are up in arms about it.”

Kala jabbed me in the ribs while Ziva gave me the, ‘don’t fib to your mamma’ look. I rolled my eyes. “Fine. Maybe I was also under orders to stir the pot and make them look bad. Not that it took a lot. Can I have my Lox now, please?” Kala relented and took her hand away from my plate.

“So this is a... _ working _ vacation?” I could hear the special emphasis in Ziva’s voice. Apparently, so could Kala who immediately shot a worried look at Ziva, and an accusing one at me. Ziva winced slightly. “Don’t go blaming him. You  _ know what their work  _ is like.”

Kala’s glare intensified slightly. “This isn’t ‘angry’ Kala; this is ‘suddenly scared for her friends’ Kala.” Her eyes turned back towards the business table. “How scared should I be?”

“I don’t know, so I’m going with Illium scared until the night’s over.”

We spent the evening trying to enjoy the meal while maintaining a sense of caution about our surroundings. I almost believed we were going to make it through the night without turning the Westin into the lobby scene from “The Matrix”, when Kala tensed up during an award presentation. Her eyes flicked to a group of people in hotel staff uniforms moving covered carts to the room’s perimeter. I surreptitiously activated my coat’s Omnisleeve and sent a general distress signal to my support team, and quickly got a ping in return.

I took a glance at K’Vant’s table, and saw they had tensed up as well, though they were pointedly not looking at any of the suspicious characters. My hand drifted to where I had my pistol stashed. “No sudden reactions; I’ve sent a signal to my support, and they confirmed. No retaliation unless they pose an immediate threat to life.”

Kala and Ziva both evened out their breathing and Kala leaned in a little. “Right, nothing to fear; we’re in a room filled with military types and weapons dealers.”

Ziva’s vox gave a soft  _ blat _ . “We’re in a room filled with administrators and flag officers, most of whom haven’t held a weapon in decades.”

Kala shot her a look and hissed, “Don’t go popping my soap bubble!”

We all tensed at once as the perimeter group all got behind their carts. “When it starts, head for K’Vant’s table.”

“Why,” Ziva asked sourly, “because they’ll protect us?”

“In a way,” everyone stood to give an ovation to the recipient, “she has at least two personal shield generators worth an Ivy League tuition a piece on her.” We all shifted to better make the sprint.

The group all drew submachine guns; conventional rather than Eezo based, and half fired into the ceiling while the others leveled their weapons on the crowd. We bolted low and fast, arriving at our table of choice as the leader of the gunmen began yelling.

“Alright! I think everyone here knows how this works!” He thumped his fist to his chest, causing a K-Barrier to spring to life. “Everyone on the ground, valuables out where my associates can collect them. Some of you will be selected as hostages to secure our departure.” I had a sneaking suspicion who would be taken. “As long as nobody tries any heroics,” he panned his weapon towards a furious looking retired Marine with enough awards to open a surplus store, “then nobody gets hurt. So put on your big-boy pants and be grownups about this.”

Ms. K’Vant was just laying down when she noticed me, Kala and Ziva. She almost choked and started to turn the strangest color of purple, just as the spokesman came up to us while the rest of the thugs moved through the crowd. “Alright you lot are our lucky winners tonight. Get up.”

We all stood up. I kept my hands visible, but low. The spokesman was about to speak again when he noticed my group. “Who the fuck are you?”

I was torn for a moment between snark to buy time, and compliance to keep from giving Lee an excuse to skin me alive when Francois piped up. “He’s with the Laser design team! They’ll pay a lot to get him back!”

I was sorely tempted in that moment to waste a shot on him, but I saw the wheels turning in the spokesman’s mind. More importantly, I didn’t hear him tell a potential hostage to keep quiet.

“Laser development team, eh? Maybe I’ll keep you for myself.”

I scowled at Francois and the thug. “What, you want me to make you guns? Maybe give you a demonstration?”

He sneered and stepped forward, pointing his sub-gun up towards my chin. “Yeah, something like--”

I pushed the gun flat against his chest, drew my subcompact and shot him in the gut.

When Sarah and I had designed the various weapons, the Subcompact had been designed with personal defense in mind, As such, stopping power and concealability were it’s highest priorities. The trade off was range and magazine size. What we ended up with was a pistol with a ten meter range and a seven shot magazine, but hit as hard as the rifle we had built.

I kept myself pinned to the now dying thug, and began firing at the nearest gunmen. They proved to be relatively professional, and began an orderly retreat while firing on me. That was when I leaned Ziva also smuggled a gun in as a .45 ACP casing bounced off my head. Ziva and I had succeeded in clearing the nearest thugs when one of the chandeliers broke loose and began spinning and coming apart. I saw Kala glowing behind me.

“ _ Honey _ , you’re studying to be a Doctor now; do no harm!”

“Shut up  _ dear _ ; I’m triaging!”

The various crystals were now glowing as they spun around until she began launching them at various gunmen. They didn’t have enough energy to punch through their barriers, but several were powerful enough to knock the gunmen over. By this point, the various ‘Administrators’ and ‘Staff Officers’ had rallied enough to start grabbing fallen weapons and driving the attackers the rest of the way out, right into a mixed police and GST response team.

I started to feel the adrenalin crash when Kala screamed, then Ziva screamed. I spun around to see what the shills had done, which proved the wrong thing to do. I finished a full 360 degree spin before collapsing to the floor. “What the...” It felt like the room was still spinning. My hand came up from my side covered in blood. “Huh, where’d this come from?.”

“Shut up you  _ Bosh’tet _ ! You’ve been shot! Kala, help me...” Whatever else was said went over me as I finally finished falling to the floor. It was funny; I didn’t even feel it.

...

**Beep**

**Beep**

**Beep**

It was an annoying sound, and one I felt like I’d heard for ages. I started to open my eyes, when it sounded like every person I had ever known in both lives all started yelling at me at once.

“Noise,  _ bad _ ! Light,  _ bad _ !”

Memories came rushing back, including Ziva’s declaration I had been shot. I was doubly reminded when Kala latched onto me. “I feel it now! Ow!”

She let go and hopped back wide eyed. I reached for one of her hands which she gladly gave. She punched me in the shoulder with the other. “Goddess damned bastard! I told you never to scare me like that again!”

I smiled up at her. “It’s not like I tried to scare you. What happened anyway? I vaguely remember Ziva calling me a  _ Bosh’tet, _ but not why.”

“Three sharp-force penetrating wounds to the abdomen, one of which perforated your liver.” I glanced over to the door and saw Ziva walk in. “Apparently the barrier of the goon you were using as a meat shield gave out part way through the fire fight. Fun fact: mass effect weapons carry trace amounts of Eezo with them, so we had to go looking for metallic sand grains before you developed  _ every _ form of cancer, ever.”

I scrunched up my nose. “There’s a history of Leukemia in my family.” Ziva nodded and made a note while Kala looked worried. “So my spleen is okay?” Ziva and Kala gave me a puzzled look. “I teased August about ‘venting his spleen’ back on Illium.” I gave a rather dopey smile. “We could be Spleen-buddies!”

Kala looked uncertainly at Ziva. “Is...he okay.”

Ziva chuckled and put up her tablet. “He’s just on a pretty heavy Opioid pain regime right now, to keep him docile until his liver finishes healing.”

“I’m sooooo stoooooooned.” I started to think of something else, then a thought occurred to me. “Ooh! Ooh! Holographic Dark Side of Oz!”

Kala looked no less worried, but I was sure that would pass once she had witnessed the greatest accidental music video of all time. Thankfully, Ziva knew what I was talking about. I made it all the way through the synced music before passing out again.

The next time I woke up, I wasn’t nearly so loopy, and my gut was kicking my ass. That somehow summoned WS-1 Capplan.

“Hey there soldier boy; how are you holding up?” She looked okay, but she had pretty bad bags under her eyes.

I chuckled, and immediately regretted it. “Oh, you know; milking my first ever ‘Red Badge of Courage’ for as much sympathy as possible.” 

She relaxed a lot at that, and sat down next to the bed. “This isn’t your fault.” Her head came up in surprise. “ _ I’m _ the one that picked a firefight with half a PMC. Given how fast you were on scene, I probably could have just been a snarky asshole for another five minutes. Then, all I’d have had to show for the evening would be some more bruises.”

She seemed ready to argue some more, so I went with the nuclear option. “When Lee finds out Ziva got caught up in a firefight, do you want him looking for answers from you or from me?”

She blanched slightly and wiped her hands. “Done. I’ll still back you up, since this Op was sprung on you at the last minute.”

I nodded sagely, even as I knew Lee was going to freak out. “So did we get anything out of this Shirt-Cuff operation?” I looked around. “Well, anything you can talk about here. Where is here anyway?”

“Walter Reed Medical Center in Bethesda. You’re hooked up to the only monitoring gear in the room, and most of the Nurses here have higher clearances than either of us.” I snorted, then settled in.

She brought up a file on her Omnisleeve. “Well, first was the actual ‘strike team’ at the Westin. They’re all from ‘Ingersoll Tactical Solutions’, which is, or was, underwritten by Devlon Industries. Specifically, LaVoisier had a controlling interest in the company.”

I chuffed a laugh, then regretted it. “That seems kinda amateure hour to me.”

Sarah frowned. “The bosses at Devlon seem to agree. They dumped Ingersol and openly disavowed it’s employees, and recalled Francios. He was involved in a ‘freak mid-air collision’,” she air-quoted, “on his way to the branch offices in Dulles.” 

I frowned at that. “Isn’t that how August’s family died, right around the time Lee the Elder was rattling cages?” Sarah was brought up short. “We might want to shake that tree a little harder. What about the Gruesome Twosome?”

“Also recalled back to Citadel space, but no ‘unfortunate accidents’ I’ve heard about. But they weren’t the only ones to make a hasty exit.” She brought up a star map. “A second team we think was the remainder of Ingersoll hit the test weapons cache and made off with the crates and trackers. We got pings at the Sol and Arcturus relays, though the new navigation tracking center saw they made a stop in the middle of the Arcturus system. A second ship crossed that exact spot three hours later and remained on station for five minutes before departing.” The map showed two blips moving different directions. “The Ingersoll ship headed to the Attican Beta Relay and is remaining on course to Illium. The second was a Volus Freetrader and transferred through Shanxi-Theta and is bound for Manae with the trackers aboard.” 

She closed the files. “We have teams ready to intercept both ships while still in transit. Bullet wounds and impending ass whoopings not withstanding, this was a good op.”

I gave her a flat look and waved a tired arm. “Yay.”

“No seriously, you did good; thinking on your feet, spotting the threat, all of it. Have you ever thought about transferring to the Case Officer’s division?”

I shook my head. “First, Kala spotted the bad guys; I just phoned it in. And second, I’m not giving up the Space-Cadet gig; certainly not until we get the rest of Jawa back.”

Sarah leaned in and looked me dead in the eye. “Part of being a good Case Officer is knowing who to put where, and when to trust them to run with it. Another, is spotting the little details in bigger pictures. Besides,” she stood up, “it’s not necessarily an ‘either/or’ job. Think about it.” 

I watched her leave the hospital room, and wondered about how many layers there really were to the GST.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ThePilotArchangel has extended the invitation to any fans of his story to participate. Simply go to his page on FF.net https://www.fanfiction.net/u/8343608/ThePilotArchangel and message him.


	19. Extra-planetary Trip

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nomad was not the first Traveler to be dumped into this Alternate Mass Effect Universe. And he most certainly will not be the last; these are the stories and adventures of the future and current members of the Systems Alliance Group for Specialized Tactics (GST).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The following stories are written as authorized expansions on ThePilotArchangel's "A Ghost and a Specter" story. This particular chapter is part of a series written by mp07.

**\- extra-planetary trip, Air port of Maiquetía Venezuela 2 pm**

Well it is time to go to greener pastures as they say but with the hope that things do not screw up beyond redemption. Hopefully there were simpler ways to earn money without having to become a  _ choró  _ or a whore sucking the balls to the party of rats to keep oneself a constant and reliable income.

Going to the boarding ramp on the way to my seat and start to get comfortable for the trip and once in the air I can not help but think  _ Haha finally out of this hellhole! Goodbye maricas _ ! From this height I cannot help but hopefully ponder a future ahead in which the country can be arranged, for now to relax with some music while we fly over the sea.

Aviators - Monumental (Demon's Souls Song | Hybrid Alternative)

**Milky Way / Hades Nexus / Amarna System / Nykodym / Cuervo / Capital: Castro Marim / (09/20/2179) 23:10 Hours**

…

…

Why did the chair suddenly get so stiff and who's splashing my face?

Well see where the hell am I?

Taking the area where I apparently found myself with my belongings scattered around me, seeing a town in the distance I start walking towards the outskirts of the place and I see that it is smoking, speeding up the pace without needing to exercise the muscles with the weight that I carry. and checking every few steps that there is no person on my way I arrive at the scene of a fight with corpses scattered where one could see with quite the particular DIFFERENCES between them, dismembered alien bodies by the only thing that I see was enormous strength, of course the smell does not stop to be shit even though I already recognize this as recently dead making me gag at the taste, seriously what the hell happened here? No better WHERE THE FUCK AM I?

Looking through the bodies I found... ok now it is time to cry ... on the one hand I am in the universe of mass effect on the other hand meh cthulhu ... what the hell ...

Ok priorities:

  * See what is useful between the bodies.
  * Arm myself with anything I can.
  * Horde money like a dragon in these parts.
  * Get a Personal means of transportation.
  * Shoot Udina in the face.
  * Dunk sparatus head on that podium of theirs.
  * Survive what's next.



Simple, there is no pressure ...

Huh ... approaching one of the corpses with their arms still added, something shines and is that an Omni Tool?

Looting the deceased and putting the tool on, I see if I can operate it and it does not respond to my commands ... seeing the corpse again I try again with the hands of this one and if it works by going through the options I see to change the user and now I have one of the most useful fictitious tools of the multiverse in my position.

Ready with the equipment that I could salvage from the area and with a pistol in hand to see where I can get a transport away from here and my location.

Castro Marim?

info: The smallest satellite of the ice giant Nykodym, Cuervo prospered quietly for more than half a decade following its establishment, raking in a healthy profit from a combination of helium-3 mining on its parent planet and agricultural activity centered on its own equatorial temperate regions. Unfortunately, the colony's location in the Skyllian Verge made it a vulnerable target for raids following rising tensions between the Alliance and the batarians. The colony was subjected to a particularly violent attack during the course of the Skyllian Blitz, in which pirates and slavers retreating from Elysium revenged themselves on the small colony, which up to that point, had boasted a population of up to 13,000. Following the massacre, the colony saw high levels of emigration, and only generous Alliance incentives - as well as promises to enlarge the Alliance garrison on-site and increase the frequency of patrols - kept the colony from being abandoned.

Population: 8,102

Yes ... those were more empty promises, hopefully there is some ship with the manual in it yet. because I do not want to be like the patsy with the gun when the authorities come over here.

* bbbbbbbbbbrrrrrrrrrrrrmmmmmmmm * A ship flew past the colony area descending and landing a gang of pirates for the variety I see and most prominent of all the four-eyed bunch in the background.

Well that complicates things ... time to hide …

**Milky Way / Hades Nexus / Amarna System / Nykodym / Cuervo / Capital: Castro Marim / (09/22/2179) 09:01 Hours**

Now I can definitely sympathise with verge colonists when they complain that the alliance  _ does take _ their sweet time to do jack shit!

two days playing hide and seek with a crew of pirates lost its charm by the 3thr hour…on the upside I finally found a means of transport i.e. the fucks ride, the downside? the fucks that landed with it... and if i don't start making way to steal their ride and bug off i can pass as a survivor to the authorities the problem with that is that i don't know how that interview will go aside from poorly not to mention that i will probably won't have a opportunity to acquire a ship without so much paperwork in a while or ever with my lack of skill flying things not idiot proof.

so best course of action for now is hitch a ride once they are done with whatever they are doing here… ok so far no perimeter set up or any kind of visible security to the naked eye… so unless this guys didn't bother to set any type of alarm and if, IF i’m lucky enough to pull a splinter cell tier stealth and hide by one of the most high heat areas of the ship to fool any inner scanner on the thing if it even has them, i should have a decent ride and time to get a costume to the controls.

ok as the brits say who dares wins, is do or die no biggie…

making my way to the landed craft and checking all surroundings for the alarm to come I made it to the ramp and get inside taking all of it in, now what was my first thought?

“que pedaso de basura”

All I will say is that when your life depends on whether your ship holds the reentry to a planetary body or the blackness of space you make absolutely sure it is in shape not this state of decay… it's sad that this is the only boat around that I know of and this place's spaceport is empty from my search on the first day…

well enough moping find the place to hide and ready the guns flash bang and knife for fuck ups.

now secure on a nice corner of the vessel near the cargo area but not that close and under the service panel time to wait…

*bump*

now getting up and out of the planet's gravity well, how do I know you ask? this tub is rattling all the way up. 

time to start the scurrying through the cargo and areas for the tech arsenal and rigged the cargo undersides with mines.

weapons locker? check, secure with password? no, easy guns? Yes, do they have spares? no, can they be sabotaged? maybe, do i have the time to try? maybe?

so timing my run around for the trip i was able to do a fair amount of thing among them: 

  * disable 4 shotguns kept one and slave it to my tool for my use only.
  * follow the guide to all things kaboom of find what burns more on the net and my library build a case that can maximize the boom with the fabricator and place them.
  * overheard the course and destination along the time to reach it and in the process discovered that this guys are scavengers.
  * catch the crew schedule and rations so i dont starve to death with my salvage food on a adquarie bag full of it from the colony.
  * config one of the pistols to simulate recoil and train to hit a target reliably at 30 mts and recorded on the tool for review.
  * keep my 4 hours sleep to do all this shit.
  * count and pass all the credits (7325c) that were on the tools that i could grab back on cuervo and set to 5 chits of 2000c, 3000c, 1000c x 2 and 325c.
  * read mass effect revelations and plan for the mayor events with my meager help.
  * brush on what pass as current galactic politics and history.
  * build tech grenade launcher… so hello spin fusor nice to know making a high tech slingshot is still more simple than a uzi… still no torque bow but tho with some modifications could end up with a servisable predator bow… huh.
  * make a harness for carrying all this gear plus my bags with my stuff.
  * made a balaclava with some rags and added some protection to my skull with a makeshift omnigel helmet.
  * edited footage that i took from the aftermath of the colony the faces of these guys and just need a address for it to be delivered to the police or what pass as one where we are going.



Looking back at all that one can really appreciate how do or die does wonders for one… the most productive time i have been in my life to be honest…

**Location: Milky Way / Hades Nexus / Hoplos System / Trident / descending to the planet on route to New Cousteau outskirts / December 28th, 2179 CE / AD, 0646 Hours**

please, please, please, please don't fall apart… repeating that chant while making planetfall was all i could do in my little hole under the service panel during the whole affair… how does the ME residents don't shit themselves every time they do this? i would never know but i chuck it to more stable ships and / or better pilots.

After touching solid ground and waiting for the crew to leave the vessel I made my way to the cockpit and crew quarters pillaging what I could carry with my already diminished belongings and found the pilot still in the seat and sneaking behind it.

Aiming at the turians torso “ah ah ah don't even think to do something stupid” with these he cease to move and regards me wearily “good now i need you to do something for me and if i don't get it say by to your skull” making enfasis with the shotgun in my arms “you are going to make a very convincing distress call to the local authorities with the exact location of this fine establishment and broadcast it to said authorities” gawking at my demand i remind the bird of who exactly is in command here and he complies, with that done i dispose of him with a pair of concussion rounds to down him and made my way out. 

and now to make some noise and scurry…

Nightcore - Eye Of The Storm.

*BOOOOOOOOOOMMM!!!* *BOOOOOOOOOOMMM!!!* *BOOOOOOOOOOMMM!!!*

detonating the explosives that i had set in the cargo hold of the ship and the ones they have move to other areas of this makeshift market panic starts to ensue and not far behind it the exchange of gunfire from the buyers and bands present, so of course with grain size lead flying every which way; I do my duty to deliver the freesbees of death to anyone who dares to be spraying fire in my direction, making a shot with a few charge electric mines near a container that blown up some seconds ago and flooded the area with what i can only assume is redsand or the shit you make impromptu smoke clouds when doing samaras recruitment and i was NOT expecting what happen next at all.

the biotics that were in the blast area of the dust cloud charged their space magic and were about to do shit, when the mines i had sent to them detonated and whatever was about to be unleash turn to in what i can describe as self immolation and soul wrenching screams… oh dear lord that’s so fucked… shit no time to gawk keep running you fool!

in my run to the ships a batarian prick tries to tackle me and failing but barely, not that i have all the time in the world to waste with him so against my better judgement i go for a dribble and the cock sucker lit up his omni and tried to taze me, nah ah not a chance! meet my boot to your balls you four eye shit!

while my foot delivered the pain to his jewels, the asshole pulled and shattered my improvise mask in an attempt to hold my neck while falling and saw my face or at least part of it before receiving a roundhouse kick to the temple follow by a disruptor shock point blank and ending out for the count while the mayhem still rages in the area.

time to make my daring escape to one of the more sound and safer riders available on this place… aja!

0:10:15 - HUBRID - PROTOTYPE (Version 2)

entering the one further back and reaching the cockpit i start the VI helper, made some hardwire to the controls to hard reset, plug the tool to the controls and VI, make an emergency lift up and override the safeties for the Guardian point defense system and shot beams to the other park ships making one go out in a fiery blast to cripple the rest nearby and made it out as a bat out of hell!!

reaching outer space i set course for the relay and now i’m feeling the adrenaline crash… wwwwooooooo!!! *huff* *huff* *huff* i can't believe I made it! *uff* *inhales* oh the jitters how i missed you, haven't had them since beating dead space 2 on insanity… coming down from my high i put some music and review some of the extra footage i recorded before blasting out of that black market to add to the one from cuervo and send it to the net thru a one off use omni from the scavenged corpses; and get rid of it once uploaded and take stock of what i made out with on this bird.

0:13:20 - HUBRID & BMX ESCAPE - PURSUIT FORCE

one hour later and still in route to the relay…

After reviewing the footage well… That could have been better on my part but ... it is not as if they were going to report the shipment of red sand that they had stored in the warehouse ... and also thanks to the commotion generated by the storms that are currently hitting the region, my flight is unlikely to make it very important.

Leaning back in the pilot's seat, I begin to consider where to spend a week under the eclipse radar and disappear from the mind of the blue suns ... * sigh * How the hell does Zaeed not blow up his brains or any pilot with these controls?

Now to find a place to hide for a couple of months ... maybe Norehsa in the Qertassi System by the Nubian Expanse ... maybe give hoth a chance while things cool out.

[TWRP - Starlight Brigade (feat. Dan Avidan) [Official video]]

-Location **:** [Milky Way](https://masseffect.fandom.com/wiki/Milky_Way) / [Nubian Expanse](https://masseffect.fandom.com/wiki/Nubian_Expanse) / [Kalabsha System](https://masseffect.fandom.com/wiki/Kalabsha) / Tefnut **/** January 20th, 2180 CE / AD, 12:20 hours. 

Tefnut's motto is really on point so far  _ "Like home, only better." _ no argument here from me, god knows i needed the brake from the paranoia.

*beep*

a few months laying low and now this makes the rounds… oh joy! this have to be a trap of some kind for sure… and hello there paranoia long time no see.

looking at the message displayed on my tool that feeling does not abate at all.

**'Find out if you know what happens to Earth in 2186.’**

Are the Reapers real?

Is subject "Savior" Paragon or Renegade?

Who is "Archangel?" 

Who is the Illusive Man?

What did Bioware create in 2007?

These five questions stared at me... well might as well answer this for the lolz.

  * Are the Reapers real? yes.
  * Is subject "Savior" Paragon or Renegade?  paragon all the way.
  * Who is "Archangel?"  garrus, best turian bro around.
  * Who is the Illusive Man?  jack “smokes like a truck” harper.
  * What did Bioware create in 2007? mass effect.



A request showed up once i had finished the quiz asking for information about how one came to this world; what they did, their experience and the like.

ok the genuine article then cuz there's NO WAY IN HELL jack would ever leave anybody who knows his name alive.

might as well keep it simple; mechanical engineering student, was leaving the country and woke up to the glorious sight of a colony raid, stole the sods ride after they left the planet and made a stop at trident with a load of goods of the red variety, fun fact did you know that red sand, biotics and high voltage don't mix so well… the blown brains were a surprise… anyway as for my current profession... I guess smuggler, pirate? i dont know i’m pulling a Solo here… so as far as i know if you are reading this an comes from “prime terra” do give a bro some help here would you… and send, hopefully some assistance will come my way and if not well there still is a GOOD chunk of ammo to burn thru.

Now back to some good music and programing a drone’s damn VI to stay steady once on the air… *zap* fuck! will you cooperate! ouch...

[ Aviators - A Song That Never Ends (James Bond Song | Cinematic Rock)]

Location: Milky Way / Omega Nebula / Sahrabarik / Omega / January 20th, 2180 CE / AD, 15:20 hours. 

Captain Wasea: Jentha, this better be good or else i will hang up on this call professional courtesy be toss to the sea if this is for gloating over our missing shipment to illium.

Jentha: Wasea always a  _ pleasure  _ to see one of my favorite  _ whores _ , nah nah don't be so hasty i DID call as a matter of courtesy for you weren't alone in that disaster that had 3 companies of our troops killed or arrested on the site by the local security and well the bribes were hefty for the personal that matter who were present in that fiasco.

Captain Wasea: So what? you humans tend to find ways to skirt those guys with a couple of favors and some ass, now why did you arrange this call?

Jentha: girl, I was getting to that, of the security footage salvage from that we discovered a hichtrider that sneak in with the cargo from cuervo and rigged the place to blow along 4 other ships  _ under your firm's _ care might i add.

Captain Wasea: So here to share the face of the one that decided it was a _bright_ idea to cross two security firm’s out of _professional courtesy_? don't make me laugh, girl i’m older than you and will still be living by the time you can pull something on me. What is the catch?

Jentha: none, i just had put a bounty on the guy for our troops to nab him whenever possible, i assume that you might want a bit of the action and tell yours as well for whom to look for?

Captain Wasea: alright what do you want from me for the info?

Jentha: that you capture him alive, have one batarian bastard by camala that apparently was in the area for business and was harmed in the altercation with our mystery man and is offering a considerable sum for it.

Captain Wasea: no promises but i’ll pass it to the rest of the sisters… END OF CALL

Jentha: yeah no promises here either… CONNECTION CUT.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ThePilotArchangel has extended the invitation to any fans of his story to participate. Simply go to his page on FF.net https://www.fanfiction.net/u/8343608/ThePilotArchangel and message him.


	20. Movie Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nomad was not the first Traveler to be dumped into this Alternate Mass Effect Universe. And he most certainly will not be the last; these are the stories and adventures of the future and current members of the Systems Alliance Group for Specialized Tactics (GST).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The following stories are written as authorized expansions on ThePilotArchangel's "A Ghost and a Specter" story. This particular chapter is part of a series written by ThePilotArchangel.

San and the rest of the Quarians were, again, relaxing in their Alcove.

It was that time of day where everyone got a few hours where they could do whatever they want; within reason of course. Most took the opportunity to write in their journals, or play that human fantasy game.

“Fon, you  _ Bosh’tet _ !” San maddly jabbed at his screen. “Stop dragging the mobs back here like  _ Fre’eg _ !” Fon simply cackled while leading the holographic hoard on a merry chase.

“Ancestors damn you, now we have to clear them from our base!” Col exclaimed, sounding like he was ready to start punching the Marine for his trolling.

“Noooo… My Gardens… I put so much work into them.” Leah moaned, sounding close to tears.

“At least it’s XP and equipment.” Jaali noted, trying to sound optimistic as Lia and Nina patted Leah on the back; while Fyodor just slept away in his hammock, his latest drawing and crayons strewed about underneath him.

Tali rolled her eyes from her omnitool as she looked up something called ‘Russian Literature’, while Kal just sat in his hammock, trying to get ahead on his weekly paperwork; which never seemed to end in his opinion.

“Oh you  _ Bosh’tet  _ Fon!” Leah snapped as the horde destroyed her garden; prompting her to jump across the group circle and start to play hit and choke him. No one moved or spared it any attention beyond giving the two a glance; before returning to what they had been doing.

San grumbled under his breath as he cleared up the last of the mob; noting with amusement that both Fon and Leah’s characters were dead and needed to be revived, since their controllers were too busy either trying to kill each other or mate with each other. San couldn’t really tell if he was honest, but the fact that Fon was still cackling like he was crazy while Leah was still cursing at him meant that it was probably the former; probably…

A pair of footsteps drew everyone's attention; except Leah, who was still focused on strangling Fon, while said Quarian was still cackling like mad.

“Er… I hope I'm not interrupting anything?” A familiar voice said, sounding uncertain.

Everyone stopped and looked in surprise to see Pilgrim Lee and Detective Vakarian standing at the entrance to their alcove; both men staring at Leah and Fon. “Oh no! No-no-no! Nothing at all sir!” Leah exclaimed, hopping to her feet.

“She’s just getting revenge for me destroying her Garden.” Fon replied, still chuckling as he pulled himself up; “We’re just lucky she didn’t wake up Fyodor.” Everyone turned to look at the sleeping kid; and breathed a sigh of relief that he was indeed still asleep.

August looked at the rest of the group; “Well if you're done with your foreplay, how about all y’all join us for a movie? Shepard finally cleared the schedule so that once a week the majority of the crew can come down to the hangar bay and watch some movies if they want to.” He explained with a smile on his face.

Garrus just buzzed slightly in amusement, “This is the most excited I’ve seen you in a long while.” He noted, raising an eye ridge while flaring his mandibles.

“How can I not be? I convinced her to let us watch ‘John Wick’.” The Major replied, actually  _ grinning _ for once; as opposed to giving small smiles.

“I still don’t understand what is so great about it; but I suppose we’ll see.” Garrus buzzed, admitting his interest in his own roundabout way.

San looked at his fellow Quarians, and Jaali shrugged; “We don’t get much out on the fleet, I admit; but it should be interesting to learn a bit more about human culture.”

Kal just shuddered, “Just so long as it’s not ‘Fleet and Flotilla’; I’m so damned tired of watching it.” he grumbled, and all the male Quarians nodded in agreement; while San wisely didn’t nod along with them even though he agreed.

All the females gasped, and a round of dope slapping occurred; which San managed to avoid by hiding behind Pilgrim Lee, who looked very amused at the whole situation unfolding in front of him.

“How dare you say that! Sacrilege!” Nina exclaimed.

“You don’t like Fleet and Flotilla? What kind of Quarian are you?” Jaali added.

Leah shuddered as Tali put a hand on her back, “Oh to think you and I shared the same Liveship.” She whimpered.

Lia just wrote something down on a sticky note, and stuck it to Fyodor's Visor; “Let’s go, hopefully the movie will be good enough for me to forget the heresy all you males have just committed.”

**X**

San and the others walked into the hangar, and he blinked upon seeing all of 1-4-1; all the Marine compliment, and a small number of the regular crew already having taken seats in the room.

Most of the humans sat cross legged, while the other Council races sat on various crates and such.

Everyone was quietly chatting with each other; while Commander Shepard sat close to the giant screen that had been set up, typing into her omnitool. San blinked as Pilgrim Lee set down a few collapsable chairs in the back of the crowd, where his three ‘Skulls’ were already sitting and lounging.

Phil apparently had broken out his ‘Vodka’ stores, while Sergeant Kingfisher and Sergeant Weaver were both putting ice into red plastic cups; and pouring Colt’s soda into them, before adding some of Phil’s vodka, and then passing them to everyone seated.

San jumped when the Major said, “Here, you guys sit back here with us; You get a better view of the screen, and we set up speakers so everyone can hear.”

He looked at the rest of his fellow Quarians, and they all shared a glance; before shrugging, and sat down on the floor in front of the chairs the ‘Skull’s’ had set up. The Major nodded in encouragement as they all sat down, and grabbed his thermos and took a big swig of it; the ice sloshing around inside.

Nodding to them, he walked up to stand next to Shepard, turning his gaze to the crowd. “Alright… Alright everyone settle down.” The room quieted as all conversation tapered off, and the Major glanced at the Commander.

She shrugged, “Your show Major.” was all she said as she set up a chair next to Garrus; the Turian putting an arm around her.

Nodding, the Major said; “Alright, we got refreshments over by the wall; I cooked them myself using some old family recipes. We got Pepsi, Iced Tea, some ‘Shepards Pie’ Ice Cream, Sweet and Sour Apple Pie that is Dextro and Levo friendly; Rice Crispy Treats also duel acid friendly, Apple Strudel.” San noticed the Commander lick her lips, and he didn’t fail to see the smirk Lee sent her way.

Knowing the Major, he had likely bribed the Commander after buying all the stuff necessary to make all this food he was listing to get her to go along with it. “Peach Cobbler, Old Bay Garlic Potato Fries, both of which are also duel acid friendly; some popcorn, and finally Spaghetti and Meatballs with my own personal meat press for the meatballs, and I managed to snag some Maryland Ledo’s Sauce for the Spaghetti. All of which is Dextro Friendly in the Green pot, while Levo is in the Red Pot”

San blinked, while Tali exclaimed; “ _ Kheelah _ ! You cooked it all yourself?” she them sunk into her chair as everyone turned their gazes to her while Pilgrim Lee laughed.

“I used to work in a restaurant, but even I can’t do that much by myself; I would like the mess crew to stand, and for everyone to give them a round of applause for being such good assistants and students.” He replied, clapping as the mess crew did so; along with Leah, to the Quarians surprise.

As the Applause died down, San and the others leaned over to Leah; and Fon whispered, “What did you do? And what was it like?”

Leah sputtered for a few seconds at the attention. “It was nothing really; I just boiled things, like sterilizing equipment really.” Everyone could see her eyes flash happily. “I  _ did _ make the ‘Rice Crispy Treats’; and they’re a secret I’ll take to my grave!” 

San noticed several humans grinning at that, even as they headed over to partake of the aforementioned ‘treat’.

San turned his attention back to Major Lee as one of the human Marines asked, “So what’s the Vid for tonight sir? Blasto.”

Everyone blinked as a sour look crossed the Major’s face, and San didn’t miss the looks of disgust cross the other Ghosts faces behind him. “Please, that is nothing compared to what I picked out; these films are classics. Tell me, have any of you heard… of ‘John Wick’?” He asked, his smile returning.

Everyone looked at each other in confusion while Liara raised her hand in question; “What is this about?” She asked.

August laughed, “A tale from the early twenty-first century; the tale of a man on a warpath of revenge, and later his attempts to escape the consequences of his actions. The tale of a retired Assassin forced out of retirement; this assassin… is John Wick.”

While most of the crew seemed curious, San noticed Wrex, Aethyta and Shiala perk up at the mention of what sounded to him like an old House vendetta.

Shepard just chuckled, “Alright, go on and start it Major; I got my food.” She commented, jabbing a fork into her ‘ _ Spag-etti _ ’.

“I’ll prepare it, but let everyone else get their food.” He looked right at San, and San understood immediately; and he scrambled up and got one of everything for himself once he reached the table. All his fellow Quarians and at least half the crew following his example.

San quickly realized the Major had made sure to set up several servings in food tubes for the Quarians, along with at least two for each person for each of the desserts. The ‘ _ Spag-etti _ ’ didn’t look too appealing, but since Leah had claimed it tasted delicious; he was willing to give it a try.

It took a little bit for everyone to get situated, but soon everyone had their food; and were seated in front of the giant Holo-Screen. San noticed that most of the humans weren’t eating, and looked to be waiting for the movie to start; and San decided to follow their example, since it seemed to be an interesting idea.

His fellow Quarians noticed and did the same. Major Lee hit a few keys, and the Vid started to play; even as the Major practically sprinted over to the food, grabbed a serving of each, before rushing back to his chair behind the Quarians with the rest of his team. 

San wasn’t sure what to expect from the beginning of the tale, but the bloody and beaten human that crawled out of a wheeled conveyance was not it. Most of the Quarians were slightly unnerved by the scene and the great volumes of bodily fluids present. San shuddered at the thought of the bacterial cesspool the character was dragging himself through. He and his fellow Pilgrims were given a slight reprieve when the human pulled out what looked like some kind of proto-omnitool.

Tali slurped a tube of the purified ‘Old Bay Fries’. “Well setting aside I’ve been where he is, I can’t imagine this could get much worse.” she mumbled, so as not to disturb the crowd.

There was an almost commercial dark chuckle from behind them. San peered over his shoulder at the ‘Ghosts’. Phil was shaking his head while Archer gave them a sympathetic smile. It was the almost manic grins on Lee’s and Colt’s faces that really let them know just bad this night would get.

San watched, feeling quite sympathetic to the man on the screen as he watched his bondmate die to sickness. It was something all Quarians, he himself included, had dealt with in their lives. There wasn’t one Quarian he knew of that had not lost a friend or a relative to some kind of sickness or suit breech.

And then there was the small Varren-Kit, it was adorable. Half the crew, especially among the humans, began cooing at the small furred creature. San had some hopes for the story until he heard Archer lean over and whisper to Lee, “You know, you can be a real bastard some times?”

Lee’s only response was to hide a sniggering laugh and shush her.

Wrex simply barked a laugh after the three Batarian stand ins were finished on screen. “Whelp; they’re dead. I’m getting more of Shepard’s Pie. You want some?”

Garrus leaned over to the Commander and whispered something to her, which also sounded like it had to do with the meat-pie dish, though for some reason it earned him an elbow to the ribs. “So I take it that’s a ‘no’, then?” She sent him a withering look that was marred by the full face blush.

As the man buried the Varren-Kit; San heard sniffing beside him, and San turned and noticed all the females seemed to be crying. Even Archer looked aggrieved somewhat; while Leah trembled, whispering “It was so cute and innocent… why did it have to die?” Fon just put an arm around her shoulder, and San smiled before turning his attention back to the screen as the three Batarian stand in’s confronted a Shop owner of some kind.

There was another round of dark chuckling as the ‘legend of Baba Yaga’ unfolded, though a number of the crew siddled themselves away from the grinning Matriarch. San noted with amusement that Wrex himself seemed to be leaning away from her slightly; though it was very subtle, to the point that he wasn’t sure that anyone else noticed.

Shaking his head, he finished off the ‘ _ Spag-etti _ ’ and  _ ‘Meatballs’ _ ; noting that it was indeed delicious, and moving onto the ‘ _ Old-Bay-Garlic-Potatoes’ _ . Even as a group of armed humans were making their way to the house of  _ ‘John Wick’ _ ; all dressed in masks and suits as they entered.

It was as if everyone in the hangar bay leaned forward in anticipation as it shifted back to John.

San blinked in surprise; as rather than bombastic gunfights, or massive amounts of jumping around or small explosions occurring when the action began. John Wick simply walked up and began shooting the men with a suppressed weapon in a cold and clinical fashion. This was interspersed with the sort of flailing wrestling he remembered getting into with other youths onboard the ship when he was bored, except there was something tangibly more visceral about this ‘Wick’s’ actions.

There was a slight commotion in front of him as Garrus, Shiala and Major Kirahe all chatted quietly to one another while pointing at the action; they all sounded... impressed. This earned Garrus another Shepard’s Elbow.

Though San was certain he heard Garrus scoff when the human C-SEC equivalent showed up at the door with a ‘noise complaint’; and didn’t do anything to investigate the very clearly in plain sight dead body. “Is this a documentary of the C-Sec investigative process now?” he heard him grumble.

Shepard just whispered back, "after all the people Wick killed just now, what is a beat cop going to do?"

San watched, almost slack jawed and only barely able to finish his tube of paste as the next hour of almost non-stop cold and clinical violence followed; most of it being a blur and yet very memorable at the same time, But three parts stood out in particular to San.

The first was the fight at the nightclub, and the chief henchman for the Batarian stand ins managed to actually overwhelm Wick; capitalizing on the fight by throwing Wick off the balcony. San was pretty sure everyone cringed when Wick hit the floor; especially coupled with the downright pain inducing slamming noise Wick made when he hit the floor.

The only other scene that stood out to San was the scene where the Gang boss captured Wick. As much as he tried not to think about it, all San could think of was that  _ Bosh’tet _ Muhandis; when he had captured San and all the rest of the Quarian Pilgrims. 

He had to look away as the goons tried to kill John by suffocating him, and the sniper killing the one goon and allowing John to escape just drew more parallels in San’s mind.

The last scene that stood out was of course the final battle and the aftermath; though San did remember everyone cheering when that ‘Perkins’  _ Tuho _ was executed by the rival Crime Boss for trying to kill Wick on neutral ground.

The final fight was brutal, and San actually put a hand to his side when Wick allowed Viggo to stab him in the side; and then Wick using that to get the upper hand to finally beat and kill Viggo. Though Viggo’s final words, “Be seeing you John”, was haunting to San; since it was clear that even if Wick survived the end of the film, he was clearly on borrowed time.

Once the movie was over, everyone was sitting and staring at the screen in open mouthed amazement. “Holy shit, that was waaaaaaay better than Blasto; I don’t think I can ever watch those movies again after this.” Aethyta exclaimed; prompting vigorous nods from all the aliens and at least half the humans in the bay.

“When was this movie made anyway? The effects and acting are top notch; has to be the 2160’s, right?” Ashley Williams asked.

Lee shrugged, “It was released in 2014.” Everyone stared at him, and the Major raised an eyebrow and stood; “What? My old man was a film junkie; he loved Steven Spielberg’s films in particular.”

While the various soldiers and soldiers-of-fortune extolled the virtues of the movie, San shivered in his suit.  _ That was so  _ **_bloody_ ** _! Is this what entertains humans: bloodshed and vendettas? _ He thought back to that conversation in the engineering compartment; pilgrim Lee had been poised to become a priest, but instead chose to become a member one of the Systems Alliance’s preeminent Special Forces units. His Priest as a child was himself a military combat veteran before taking the Cloth. San was  _ yet again _ at a loss to understand these people.

A hand on his shoulder startled him from his thoughts, and he looked over and saw that it was Sergeant ‘Reegar that had noticed his distress.

“What’s eating you kid?” He whispered.

San felt oddly comforted by the familiar lilt of a Quarian voice. “Just... trying to understand humans. Are they spiritual or warlike; honorable or, that?” He gestured vaguely to the holoprojector.

The sergeant seemed to think it over, before saying; “I think they’re just like us, just like the Turians, or even the Batarians. They’re a race made up of individuals, not a collective hive mind. Piece of advice for you kid, don’t try and put an entire race into a box based on what you see or have experienced. Chances are that they are their own person.” He advised.

San sank back in his chair in thought. His aunt had given him almost the same advice when he departed on his pilgrimage. That felt a lifetime ago, and perhaps it was. The old him couldn’t have imagined partaking of refreshment and entertainment alongside an Asari Matriarch and a Krogan Battlemaster while serving on a human warship, yet here he was. Maybe he should just let go, embrace the madness of his circumstances and see where they led him?

Lee walked forward even as the crew began happily chatting amongst each other, and cleared his throat; “Well then… I’m glad all y’all thoroughly enjoyed the movie; with the Commander's permission, I think we can move onto John Wick Chapter 2. By your leave ma’am.”

Shepard looked around the hanger, and saw that most everyone was giving her pleading looks; practically begging her to allow the night to continue. She started laughing, “Oh all right, It’s not like you haven’t gotten me hooked on these now.” She said sarcastically, pointing a fork at him before digging back into her Pie and Ice Cream.

San leaned forward in his seat; so this was what human movies were like? He could get used to this.


	21. Mikaius' Side Story, Part 2: New Life, New Job, New Responsibilities, and Plenty of Recurring Headaches

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nomad was not the first Traveler to be dumped into this Alternate Mass Effect Universe. And he most certainly will not be the last; these are the stories and adventures of the future and current members of the Systems Alliance Group for Specialized Tactics (GST).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The following stories are written as authorized expansions on ThePilotArchangel's "A Ghost and a Specter" story. This particular chapter is part of a series written by Edgeoftoday. You can find his other works on https://www.fanfiction.net/u/12716553/Edgeoftoday

We flew across the Ward for a good five to ten minutes – I don't know for sure because I was too busy admiring the scenery – when finally, we arrived. 

“An apartment building? Seems a little run-down.” I tell the batarian as he parks in front of it, him looking at something on his omni-tool.

“It used to be, yes; but we've made some renovations to the inside.” He taps out a few more commands before turning the device off, and I raise a questioning brow-plate. “Just making sure no one was tracking us. Can't be too careful in this line of work.”

“Ah. Right.” I respond, suddenly remembering just what the ‘work' in question detailed.

“Come now, it's not all that bad really: you just go about your daily life, hide the fact you haven't always been a turian (which should go without saying), keep an ear to the ground for anything important that we need to know, and generally play the part of an upstanding law enforcement officer while occasionally performing the odd job for us when we need you to, while getting paid for it to boot. Simple.” he said nonchalantly after we both got out of the car.

“Oh is that all? *phew* And here I thought I was going to have to spy on the Councilors, or maybe infiltrate Cerberus or the STG, or hell, why not all three! If that's it, then I'm sure this will all be a breeze; what, with my years of experience as a professional spy.” I said with as much sarcasm as I could muster, only to be completely ignored with an amused headshake as he kept walking. Grumbling several unkind things under my breath, I followed after him; catching up just as he reached the front door belonging to our destination.

The inside was, when compared to the outside, a complete opposite in appearances: obviously brand-new and highly advanced computers, complex holograms of unknown locations, people, or devices above nearly every otherwise empty table, constant chatter from dozens of people scattered throughout the floor, and enough of said people running around carrying what I assumed to be reports to make it look more like a futuristic office rather than an apartment building.

I whistled at everything going on, impressed by the organized chaos in front of me, and attracting the attention of a couple of them before they moved on with their work. “Color me impressed!” It was then I noticed something odd regarding everyone present. “How come there aren't any humans?”

_ Ok, is it just me, or does that sound weird coming from someone that up till a few hours ago happened to be one? Wait a second, who am I even talking to? Meh, guess it doesn't really matter. _

Mentally shrugging, I managed to catch the latter half of the explanation given to me by Obram as we began walking towards the rear of the building. “-as such, seeing as they make up 70-75% of the Traveler population, any alien Traveler can't work directly for the Alliance due to various policies put in place. I hear there's talk of adjusting those policies, but any real changes are being slowed down by stereotypical pieces of varren shit – also known as career politicians.”

I blinked at what little information I actually paid attention to, and decided to pretend I heard all of it. “Ah, that makes sense then. Wait, so only 25% of us came over as humans?”

“Indeed: of which less than half were in their original bodies, and the numbers are only that high when you don't take into account the difference in age compared to their old ones.”

“Why would so many come over as aliens though? If we all started as human, wouldn't it make more sense for us to arrive like that?”

“Good question. Here's the prevailing theory from the people we have looking into it, and I'll try and dumb it down a little so it makes more sense: do you remember how many humans were alive at this point in time according to the games?”

I spent a moment to think, coming up with a rough estimate. “Anywhere between thirteen to fifteen billion if I had to guess.”

“It's typically better to round up considering the spike in birth rates caused by there being so many colonies to expand to, but yes, somewhere in that area. Now, how many aliens do you think there are?”

“Well if you listen to the first game, supposedly trillions; but we only ever get shown enough planets to total maybe upwards of fifty to sixty billion overall.”

He looked genuinely impressed at that answer, as if he didn't expect me to know, and continued on. “Huh, not a bad guess. But the first answer is the correct one: the games only gave us an extremely limited scope of precisely how massive the various populations and the territory they inhabit truly are. Salarians alone count for roughly half a trillion, perhaps more, and were it not for their strict regulating of how many females are birthed from each egg cluster combined with their short lifespans, that number would be even higher. Now, take that basic principle and apply it to every other race, bar perhaps the quarians, drell, and to a lesser extent, the krogan. Understand what I'm trying to tell you?”

I did indeed, and the final piece of the puzzle clicked into place. “So in other words: while human travelers are far from a majority, they are for some unknown reason easily the largest minority in spite of the fact that compared to the other race’s, we-er, they haven't had anywhere near as much time for the population to expand. Huh. Suppose that makes sense…I think.”

“Well that's the theory at least. Whether it's true or not, I couldn't tell you. As with everything else relating to how we got here, there's been plenty of speculation but no hard evidence to prove any of it.” He yawned for a moment, showing how tired he was, before shaking his head in an obvious attempt to stay awake. “Anyway, that can be covered in your ‘initiation' if you want further details. Speaking of which….”

We came up to a large doorway near the end of the hall, and inside it the only thing I could see was a sterile white room with what appeared to be medical terminals scattered around. “This is where we part ways for now. The doctors can handle it from here. I look forward to working with you in the future, Mikaius.”

“You too, Sir.” He looked at me curiously, so I explained. “My dad taught me to always call my superiors sir, and when combined with my stint in the Force, it became a force-of-habit; pardon the pun.”

“I see. I was just surprised you were already calling me that is all. Anyway, I do need to get back to work, so once more, I'll leave you to the docs to get you settled in and in touch with your contact.”

As he started to walk away I decided to tell him something I figured just might be what he needed to hear at the moment. “Just be sure to get some sleep when you can; I didn't think a batarian could look so positively drained before now.”

“HA! With my job here, the only time I can properly sleep is when I force my work onto an assistant for a solid week! Still though, thanks for the consideration, but don't worry; I know when to call it a day, and you're about to meet the people who keep track of my health, so I'll be fine.” he said as he went back down the hallway, disappearing into one of the many rooms along the way.

Seeing as I was now alone in the corridor, I turned back to the apparent medbay and went inside. Among all the glaring white paint and lights, the first thing I noticed was a patch of blue skin flash behind a rather large terminal; with a pair of voices discussing something I couldn't quite make out.

“Uhhh, hello? You one of the doctors here?”

The voices stopped immediately, and an asari head stuck out from around the corner of the large machinery. “May I help you, sir?” she asked in a strong French accent, and I had to do a double take due to it sounding extremely similar to my favorite companion from Fallout 4.

“Uhh, I was, uhh…” I cleared my throat to try and jumpstart my brain. “Obram told me to come here for a checkup.”

“Ah yes, the C-Sec officer. It is your first day here, no?” The way her words came out made her sound even more similar to the character I had in mind, but I shoved the thought aside for the moment.

“Yeah, I've been here for all of maybe four hours now; not counting however long I must've been asleep before that. I take it then you're one of the docs in question?”

“Indeed I am, Monsieur Falinian. A pleasure to meet someone else from home that found themselves in this fascinating and wondrous new universe.”

“You seem to have me at a bit of a disadvantage, Miss…?”

“Oh? Ah yes, I have yet to tell you my name. I am Curiela Nuranis, formerly a practicing doctor just outside of Paris. Now I am here, studying the advancements made to medicine over the years since our time, and occasionally handling the health issues of any field operatives on the Citadel. It can be truly exciting at times to experience the wonders offered by modern scientific and medical procedures!” Some may not have appreciated it as much as me, but that accent….call me weird, but I loved every second of it.

_ Wait, so she's French, a doctor, has a fascination with medical science, and her name is actually Curie?....It's official; whatever brought us all to this place is a gamer at heart. _

“That of course brings us to the reason you are here. Oh, where are my manners! I forgot to introduce you to my fellow doctor!”

She went behind the terminal again and had a short discussion with whoever it was, and then came back out with a brown and gray skinned salarian in tow. “This is my lab partner. Go ahead, my friend.”

“Hello, nicetomeetyou, mynameisJorbanYemorandI-“ he was cut off by an elbow to what I assumed was his ribcage, and the woman I now labeled as Curie sighed heavily.

“Perhaps you should drink less coffee before speaking to recent arrivals in the future,  _ oui _ ?” the asari asked him in a way that even I could tell wasn't a question; a tired look on her face. The salarian blinked his large eyes, then chuckled nervously, followed by clearing his throat.

“Yes, my apologies, will attempt to limit myself next time. As I was saying before being interrupted by Doctor Nuranis, I am Doctor Jorban Yemor. Always a pleasure to meet a new face.”

“Er, likewise. Pardon the question, Doctor Nuranis: but would you mind if I called you Curie instead?”

She gave me a confused look but I didn't miss the smirk from Jorbon.  _ Looks like he knows what I'm talking about, even if she doesn't. _

“I suppose it would be alright, but I find it strange you are not the only one to call me this among the Travelers here.”

“You simply remind me of someone I knew back in the US; they were relatively famous, to tell you the truth.”  _ Which isn't exactly a lie, depending on what version of the US we're talking about and taking into account how popular the game was. _

“Oh? Strange I never heard of them if they were as famous as you say.” The salarian's smirk grew in size when she told me that, but he hid it from her by examining what looked to be graphs of some kind on his omni-tool. She eventually shrugged, moving on with the conversation. “No matter; are you ready for the procedures?”

“As I'll ever be I suppose. You're not going to do…a FULL checkup, right?”

“What do you mean by ‘full', Monsieur?” she asked obliviously.

“Well….as in every,” I paused to find the right word “part, of my body.”

She looked even more confused at the way I termed it, but thankfully the other doctor present understood my meaning and spoke for her. “No, no, nothing like that; this procedure is to ensure you have no concerning health problems that may cause issue in the future.” I breathed a sigh of relief while Curie looked at him questioningly, and he answered the silent question in turn. “He was afraid that we might probe him. Old pop-culture stereotype related to aliens and all that.”

It took her a few seconds to register the meaning, and when she did, her eyes widened and her cheeks flushed a deep shade of purple. All in all, I had to force down a chortle threatening to escape, and ignored most of the unnecessarily detailed description of the process Jorban was giving her in favor of admiring the spotless room I was in. If what little I knew of salarian expressions from the games were true, then he was enjoying every second of this; her expression morphing from embarrassed, to horrified, to downright disgusted as he went into the nitty-gritty. After a good minute of this, I took pity on her and interrupted his ‘deeply important medical information’.

“I…I think that's more than enough information for the poor woman, Doctor Yemor.” I told him, still trying to smother a chuckle.

“Hmm? Oh, very well; it seems not everyone can handle discussing such a thing. Wouldn't you agree, Doctor Nuranis?” he asked her dryly, which came off as surprisingly natural from a salarian.

Curie, meanwhile, was busy trying to hold in the contents of her stomach if the way she leaned on a table and the unnatural green on her face was any indicator. She didn't respond to him at first, merely sending a weak glare his direction, before managing a verbal answer a few moments later. “I don't know what I would do without you, Jorban. In fact, in recognition of your immeasurable help with my research, I believe an appropriate reward would be for me to talk to Obram about cutting the monthly supply of caffeinated drinks sent here in half.”

He waved her off, ignoring the threat entirely, and started pulling out numerous odd devices from a nearby cabinet of some sort. “Yes, yes, we'll see how long you are able to last. Benefit of being salarian means that I can run off of one hour of sleep every day, so really, the only reason I drink coffee is because it sharpens my mind even further; whereas you require it for basic personal energy needs.” he told her smugly, and she finally stood back up to her full height, albeit shakily, with a frown on her face.

“Now then,” he continued while holding one of said devices in front of my own face, “to use the old adage: say ‘ah'.”

And so I did, patiently going through the examination and getting a clean bill of health. It took them an hour or so, and when they finished, Curie gave me a fresh omni-tool and a crash course in how to use it. Jorban – proving that while he lacked the sheer charm and bedside manner of his female compatriot, he made up for it in helpfulness and ability to read a situation – then proceeded to give me the future equivalent of a tech manual/tutorial for the device in the form of an app I could access at any time. It proved to be actually useful when compared to the ones I was used to for stuff back on Earth, and I thanked them both for their trouble before getting sent to the final part of my ‘initiation'.

I followed the instructions given to me, going through the winding hallways of the apartment-turned-office building, and within a minute arrived at a doorway with a hanar standing, or floating, or whatever it is they do, outside of it. “Greetings fellow Traveler! This one's face name is Zyrin. You are the disoriented one that just arrived in this formerly fictional universe, correct?”

I blinked at the oddly formal tone, but figured that being a hanar when he was...sent? I don't know the right word for it; but anyway, I figured he must've picked up their speech patterns in the process. “That's me. I hear you're going to be my contact in this ‘GST' for the foreseeable future?”

“Indeed. This one is only mildly pleased to be introduced to a new lesser underling beneath it. It looks forward to a dubious relationship between the two of us, that will doubtfully result in the occasional piece of partially useful information.” he said politely, or so I thought at first.

“Well I'm happy to be…here….”  _ Wait a second, just what exactly are the words he's been using again? ‘Disoriented', ‘only mildly pleased', 'lesser underling', ‘dubious relationship'…what the hell! I thought hanar were supposed to be nice! _

My frown combined with my fairly obvious glaring most likely tipped the jellyfish off, as he glowed a sort of yellow that I could only describe as amused. “Ah, so this one's lesser underling has caught onto its preferred method of communication! This one begrudgingly congratulates you on noticing it so soon.”

“I take it there's a reason for mixing in barbs like that when talking to a person you just met?” I asked with narrowed eyes and a slight subharmonic growl to my voice, the second part unintentional.

“This one apologizes insincerely if it has offended the would-be C-Sec officer. This one suggests an effective method of calming down would be for it's lesser underling to engage in the act of self-fornication.”

It took a moment for me to register what he meant by it.  _ Self-fornication? Wait…did he just tell me to go…oh that son of a…. _

Before I could vent my rapidly growing frustrations out on the damn jelly, he continued as if there was nothing unusual about what he just said; now glowing a sort of weird pulsating blue. “As an answer for the reason behind this one's perceived attitude, it is due to its previous life as a human. You see, lesser underling, this one suffered from a severe accident at the age of 9 that crippled its legs for life, and spent the next 15 years dealing with the insults exchanged behind its back. Then the game of Mass Effect came out, and this one discovered an interest in Joker, as it believed his attitude to be one that would be inspiring for those with untreatable physical ailments such as itself. Hence, this one decided from then on that rather than waiting for the inevitable jabs and harsh jokes at its expense, it will be the one to make them instead.”

I was taken aback a little at his explanation, and rather than comment on it, Zyrin just floated there and watched for what I assumed was a reaction. Not wanting to disappoint the guy for sharing a brief summary of his life story with me, I decided not to disappoint. “Well then…I'm sorry for coming off as too harsh. Being crippled for most of your life sounds like it would be miserable, especially if you have years of experience where you could walk like anyone else. Guess that even though you were given a hanar body, you probably didn't complain much when you took that first step in over a decade-and-a-half.”

The blue inside him died down and he just stared – at least it felt like a stare; hard to tell without any visible eyes – at me for several seconds. He eventually broke the silence, a rainbow of colors flashing from him. “This one appreciates the understanding provided by its lesser underling. This one will ensure it gives the would-be officer slightly less troublesome conversation in the future.”

Somehow, I all of a sudden didn't take as much offence at the little remarks he threw in, and responded in a more friendly fashion than I had at first. “And I'll do my best to ignore your…unique way of talking to people.”

“This one is somewhat glad we could arrive at a mostly mutual agreement. Now, this one has been ordained to lead the floundering Traveler in your attempt to adjust to changes in lifestyle, and magnanimously aid you in social advice regarding what is expected from a member of your new race. If the would-be officer could please follow this one so it can lead you to the specialized room set up for a new Traveler's education, it would be somewhat satisfied.”

Not wanting to delay any longer, I did just that; at least a little glad that I'd avoided what could've been a serious misunderstanding with the person I'd have to deal with for who knows how long. Of course…it didn't exactly help that he continued to ‘inject personality' into his ‘comments' as the impromptu class went on; and by the end of it, I found that even with the promise of ‘less troublesome conversation' from him, I was going to have to get used to the hanar not changing all that much anytime soon.

Surprisingly, it was rather easy to adjust to life as both a C-Sec officer and a turian. Turians as a whole were, aside from the military being the foundation of their entire society, incredibly diverse. They had hundreds of different cultures, each one vastly different in comparison to the last, and the reason for this was due to the surprising amount of personal freedom offered by the Hierarchy alongside the dozens of colony worlds they held; many of them with their own set of sub-cultures to add to the mix thanks to being well over a thousand years old or more. Nearly every drug imaginable was allowed as long as it didn't adversely affect your health to a serious extent, you were considered an adult when you graduated basic training at or around age 15 (which was another thing every turian went through) and could legally engage in all the activities that having such a label granted you, were allowed total religious freedom, and, while it wasn't a law in and of itself, every turian was expected to own at least a single firearm, and if possible, have it on them at all times. In short: aside from the authoritarian military government, it was a libertarian's wet dream. As such, I had no real issue adjusting to my ‘new society' thanks to the near total freedom – as long as I didn't break any fundamental laws like murder, theft, etc. of course – said society provided.

As for the officer part, it was similar to when I had to act as an MP, military policemen for those that don't know, in the Air Force a couple times; at least at a basic level that is. The whole 'you are surrounded by video game aliens and are one yourself' thing still took me for a trip every now and then, but thankfully, I adjusted quickly enough.

Turns out that when both your life and sanity depend on being adaptable to a massively changed situation, you become pretty freaking adaptable whether you want to be or not; although that might’ve been because I had to live in four different homes and an apartment while growing up due to my dad changing jobs a lot. ‘Home is where the heart is' was a saying I wound up taking to, er, well, heart, because of not living anywhere for longer than four years straight.

Today, however, was to be different from my usual routine: I was pegged by Bailey to get a new partner when I first started working at the Zakera Precinct, and he apparently found one for me not even a week later.

I…will admit to being a tad star-struck when I first met him in person.

Even if he was only a relatively minor character in the grand scheme of things back when this was all just a sci-fi third-person-shooter RPG, I always liked his mix of dry humor and gruff seriousness; a strange combination to be sure, but one I nonetheless appreciated among the countless ‘unique’ personalities from the games that I could've met for my first real ‘Mass Effect experience' instead of him. 

_ Looking at you, Aria, Jack, and Khalisa bint Sinan al-Jilani. *sigh* That I've apparently had her name permanently etched into my psyche annoys me even more. I can't remember the names of people I've known for years simply because I haven't seen them in a couple months, but I can go half a decade and still perfectly recall the name of an NPC ranked number three on my ‘list of game characters I wish I could strangle'. Say, that's a tempting thought now that it's all real. Just a minute alone, no cameras, a nice and quiet back-alley behind some shifty business so there aren't too many questions, and I can release some pent-up rage while removing a headache for every person she meets in the future….aaahhh well, it was a nice fantasy while it lasted. _

Thoughts of murder and/or senseless violence aside, I was more than glad to be in the situation I was when compared to some of the horror stories I'd heard regarding a few of the other Traveler’s first couple days here; waking up in the middle of a slave raid, wrongful imprisonment on Ilium by their secret police, getting caught on a battlefield, simply BEING on Omega, just to name a few; and to know someone that plays, or at least, played, a role in things to come. Of course the fact I had yet to meet anyone else from the ‘cast' was most likely a factor as well, but I wasn't complaining at this point. ‘Lieutenant' Bailey proved to be a capable officer, if a little lax when it came to following the rulebook to the letter; yet it seemed to result in those working under him, otherwise known as me, to respect him all the more for it.

I walked into the building wherein I now worked; which, unlike in the game, was a fairly large structure that was multiple stories tall and occupied close to half a block in both length and width. You know, like an actual police precinct meant to handle millions of people? It never ceases to amaze me how different the real version of this universe, for lack of a better term, could be at times when compared to its fictional counterpart. Case in point: as I went into the locker room to get into my uniform, I took off the thick raincoat I was wearing and reveled in the warm air. I don't care if it was because of my new biology or not at this point; the temperatures ‘outside' were still absolutely frigid even if ‘winter' had ended long before I arrived here.

While I was smiling to myself due to the wonders of indoor heating, a small sigh of pleasure being let out involuntarily, I didn't notice the person that came up to my left until they spoke.

“Oh come on Mikai-san; it's not that cold out there, you big baby!” she said with an accent similar to a certain thief's. The shortening of my name I outright ignored, as I did every time she used it; and I likewise ignored the latter part of her sentence as well.

Instead of being startled (like the first couple times she did something like this), I snapped my head to the owner of the voice and glared, albeit playfully. “Oh really? Well pardon me for not being raised up in the frozen north like soooome people. I still don't understand how you can tolerate weather like this. Tell me: were your ancestors lunatics for actually wanting to live in an area where below freezing temperatures are a near nightly occurrence, or was there simply no other land available?” I said with a bit of sarcasm. Just a bit, mind you.

My fellow officer snorted and rolled her eyes, opening her own locker opposite of mine to put a few things inside. Sergeant Atanri Minzaka was the first and so far only friend on the force that I've made up to now. She was raised on one of the northern islands of Japan, I never bothered to ask which one, and liked to brag about how ‘mild' the on-station weather was in comparison to her homeland.

I don't even really know how we became such fast friends, if I'm being honest. One day I was just out on patrol, as being part of the Enforcement Division of C-Sec meant this was half my job, and I happened to run into a salarian pickpocket. Naturally, I called it in, and was told to expect backup soon enough. After doing that, seeing as this was exactly the type of thing I was keeping an eye out for, I ran after him; and let me tell you, while it was never really shown in-game, a salarian can RUN! Fortunately, as I'm a turian myself now, and we're no slouches in the speed department either (something to do with evolving as a chasing and ambush predator; I haven't really put much effort into reading up on it), I was slowly gaining ground on the agile alien. 

Unfortunately, he managed to shove a bystander into me during the chase and I stumbled; almost tripping over them. Just when the frog (racial slurs for the win!) was about to get away by turning down a heavily crowded street corner, no doubt to blend in with everyone else, a small woman tackled him from around the other side of it.

The funny thing about salarians is that while they're perfectly built, biologically that is, for speed both mental and physical, they tended to lack something (not counting their short lifespans) in exchange for it: muscle mass. In other words: even though the one that tackled him was more than a head shorter than he was, he was still being easily held down by the woman.

When I caught up to the pair a few seconds later I noticed the distinct black and blue C-Sec uniform. After a brief exchange of names and ranks, we struck up a conversation while walking to her aircar (as the chase meant my own was quite a distance away) where her asari partner – an older maiden in her late 200's by name of Raora Vonese - was waiting; all the while dragging the grumbling amphibian with a brand-new pair of omni-cuff bracelets between us. After that, as the old, although by this point in time I suppose it's more ancient than old, saying goes: the rest is history.

“So, heard Bailey-sama is giving you a new partner today. Know what they're gonna be like?” she asked good-naturedly.

“Not a clue; have yet to even be told their race. For all I know, I might be getting a volus, an elcor, or maybe even, Spirits forbid, a hanar.”

A slight headache formed at the last possibility, and I had to resist rubbing my plated forehead in a soothing manner. Atanri must've picked up on my agitation, as she tilted her head in curiosity. “What's so bad about a hanar? I don't have any problems with them; they seem nice and polite most of the time.”

I gave her a tired stare and eventually sighed, long and loud, deciding to elaborate. “The first one I ever had an actual conversation with was basically the opposite of the stereotype regarding their so-called ‘politeness',” she snickered at my air-quotes; probably due to it coming from three-fingered hands, “and tended to find ways of insulting me without making it seem like it actually was at first glance; while the second one was preaching during one of my patrols through the Presidium sector our precinct was assigned after the EA attack. It wasn't that bad at first, I mean he was nice and polite just like you said, but the second I brought up him needing a permit for any public sermons, he went on and on about ‘Needing to spread word of the Enkindlers to counter the hateful doctrine of the horrid human religion responsible for such violence'. After an hour of explaining the situation to him, and him still not accepting it, I came rather close to just slapping some cuffs on him and dragging the jelly off. Fortunately, one of the Consort's apprentices nearby came and helped me out, and we managed to convince the hanar to go and purchase a permit if he wanted to preach further.” I finished with an angry huff, and she looked like she honestly pitied me at that point.

_ Whoever designed that side quest, all I want is five minutes alone with them to explain some things regarding how maddening it really is dealing with people like that! How come Shepard didn't deal with it before she left?! Wait…don't tell me there are other quests she didn't do on the Citadel! Oh Spirits…. _

To hide my sudden panic at possibly being forced into handling another one of those ‘quests’ – the word alone was synonymous with soul crushing pain thanks to my recent real-life experience with one – I turned back to my locker and grabbed the now familiar set of clothes inside, along with the standard set of gear including a pistol, basic first aid supplies (read: three applications of medi-gel and a roll of bandages), two pairs of prefabricated omni-cuffs in case I didn't have the time or opportunity to make them on the job, and a stun baton meant to subdue a suspect non-lethally. At first, it surprised me how similar it was to a normal police officer's equipment back on Earth, but I came to accept that some basic principles such as this tended to be true no matter the species.

Atanri patted me on the back reassuringly, and I took a deep breath to calm down before turning back around to send her an appreciative smile. Well, I'm fairly certain that's what it was. I tried smiling in front of the bathroom mirror in my apartment once, and to tell you the truth, I still don't know how anyone that's not a turian can figure out what it is. Somehow though, she understood, and smiled back at me…just in time for her partner to walk in.

“Hey Atanri, you ready…yet….” The maiden looked back-and-forth between us while blinking, and slowly, her lips curled into a devious and knowing smirk. “Well, well, you certainly work fast. So that's why you were asking me about turian facial expressions yesterday. Hey, I don't judge; I'm an asari after all. Had a turian boyfriend myself a decade or two back, and at least this one's considered a looker by his kind's standards, so don't let me interrupt a tender moment between such a lovely couple.”

It took just over a second for both of us to register her words, during which Vonose's smirk turned into a full-blown grin, and our reactions were practically simultaneous even if they were vastly different: my mandibles dropped, leaving my mouth wide-open, and the Japanese woman blushed furiously with her eyes nearing the size of saucers, immediately followed by her chasing the now cackling asari out of the locker room with a furious “RAORRAAAA!!”

When the door hissed shut I continued to gawk for a few seconds before finally closing my mouth to avoid looking like an idiot in case anyone else decided to come in. “What just happened?” I muttered under my breath.

“Women, that's what. Heh. Didn't know Officer Minzaka was interested in turians.” a gruff, Canadian, and oh-so-familiar voice said behind me, causing me to spin around and salute on instinct due to my time in the Air Force.

“CAPTAIN BAILEY, SIR! I DIDN'T NOTICE YOU THERE, SIR!” I blurted out without really thinking, prompting a raised eyebrow from the man.

“You feeling alright there, son? Last I checked, I'm wearing lieutenant's stripes. Not that I don't appreciate it or anything, but unless you know something I don't, there's yet to be a human captain in C-Sec.”

_ Oh for the love of...me and my big mouth! Welp, better think fast. _

Deciding on the most believable – and closest to the truth without actually being it – thing I could come up with at the moment, I chuckled nervously; the echoing subharmonics still sounding foreign to my ears in spite of the several days I'd had to get used to them. “Sorry, Sir, I wasn't thinking straight. Spent too much time playing a game last night that had a human with your name in it and didn't get enough sleep as a result. It won't happen again, Sir!”

This resulted in another raised eyebrow; but thankfully, he shrugged, accepting it. “It's alright. Wouldn't mind being a captain to tell you the truth, but that's probably never going to happen in my lifetime with politics the way they are right now.” he said bitterly, and I held back a kneejerk response.

_ Don't worry, I'm sure you'll get the rank soon enough. I just hope it's because of your own ability rather than THAT happening… _

Oblivious to my thoughts, the lieutenant continued. “And enough with the ‘sir this' and ‘sir that' crap! I know you turians are born and raised military, but I've been a cop most of my life, so a simple ‘Lieutenant Bailey' will do.”

“Right, sure thing Si-“ he squinted ever-so-slightly and I corrected myself “Lieutenant.”

“Better. Now then, I came to tell you your new partner is currently waiting in my office, so once you're in uniform, I'll introduce the two of you.”

He turned around to leave, no doubt to let me get ‘suited up', and I only just barely remembered what I wanted to ask him about earlier. “Lieutenant!” He paused his walking and looked back at me, gesturing for me to continue. “Who's my partner going to be? And for that matter: WHAT are they going to be? I still haven't been told.”

He looked confused, and when he spoke, sounded like it too. “Didn't I tell you in the email?” I shook my head in what was apparently the universal gesture meaning no. “Huh, could've sworn…oh well, guess that sort of thing can happen sometimes. She's an asari maiden of 98 years, fresh out of the academy; name's Ialliis Vibirian. She got high marks in every training course and was in the top ten when it came to dealing with everyday citizens going about their lives. I seem to recall you had issues with that aspect of your new post, is that correct?”

I winced, knowing the ‘issue' he had in mind, but nodded in the affirmative. “The hanar was…rather vocal, I'll admit. It would be nice having someone more suited to communication to deal with that aspect of the job.”

“Which is exactly why she's going to you instead of one of the other officers that've been on Zakera for years. It'll allow both of you to get used to the new position, or in her case, the job itself. Just make sure to stick to your patrol routes and run her through the basics; alright?”

“Will do, Lieutenant.”

“Good. You can go back to getting dressed, Falinian; I won't hold you up any longer.” he said with some amusement, and I only realized why when I noticed my left hand was still holding my uniform and gear.

“Ah, er, um, right, that.” I stammered out, making him chuckle before he left the room; leaving me alone once more. “Should probably get this on then; don't want to make a bad first impression because I made her wait. *sigh* Just another day in the now crazy life of me, Mikaius Falinian: Space Cop!” I finished with a ridiculous pose.

As no one was there to hear or see it, much to my silent relief, I got in uniform and went over to his office; an actual office rather than the tiny desk given to him in-game. Upon the door sliding open, I saw a young looking asari sitting in a chair in front of Bailey's ACTUAL desk, the man himself sitting behind it with a neutral look on his face; and when she noticed my arrival she shot up and gave me a parade ground salute. “Patrolman Ialliis Vibirian! It's an honor to meet you, Sergeant Falinian; I've heard a lot about you in the Academy! I look forward to serving with someone that has your record!”

I was stunned by her… _ eager  _ introduction at first, but brushed it off as it being quite literally her first day on the job. I also made a mental note to dig up some more information on exactly what ‘my' past was for the six years that I've apparently been working in C-Sec. “Please, I'm not that special really. So, do you prefer Ialliis or Vibirian?”

“I, uh, um,” she seemed rather shocked by my casual attitude, although Bailey appeared to notice how I was taking a page from his book and nodded approvingly, “Ialliis, Sir.”

“Relax, we're going to have plenty of time for proper introductions on the job; I've arrived at the conclusion that Zakera is a mostly quiet posting, aside from the occasional mugging or traffic accident. Anyway, I should probably clarify: while we're on patrol, I am either Officer or Sergeant Falinian, and you are either Officer or Patrolman Vibirian; but when we're off-duty, it's just Mikaius and Ialliis, alright?” she nodded in the affirmative.

“Wait a second, Vibirian…” I took a moment to think about her name. “Your father wouldn't happen to be a turian, would he?”

She brightened up and smiled fondly, her stiff posture relaxing for a moment. “Indeed he was, Sir! Best dad a girl could ever ask for!” I gave her a look, and she blinked repeatedly, before an embarrassed blush made itself known. “I mean: indeed he was, Sergeant.”

A nod was my first response, but I tilted my head when I noticed her wording. “Wait: ‘was'?”

“He died of natural causes just under a decade ago.” She answered with a now melancholic smile, and I understood what she meant by ‘natural causes' immediately.  _ Old age: that which comes to claim the lives of all, no matter the race. Still, if she's 98 now, that means he was around for a good chunk of her life. Guess that's one of the downsides of living a full millennia though: you watch those around you wither and die more often than not. Rather sad, actually. _

Invasive and unimportant thoughts aside, I tried finding something to say; only for the third person in the room to use this as his chance to speak. “Sorry to interrupt, but like you said, Falinian: you two can always pick this conversation up later. I had this big speech planned out before leaving her in your care, but it looks like it'd be a little pointless now.” He said deadpan, and being used to it by now, I smirked a little; all the while Ialliis looked horrified at possibly ruining something her new boss intended to do. Bailey, proving he hadn't reached his rank for nothing, happened to pick up on this. “Calm down kid, it wasn't  _ that _ big a deal. Tell you the truth, half of it would've been the standard bullshit: 'Welcome to C-Sec', ‘We are responsible for protecting the most important people in the galaxy’, ‘recruitment line about being the finest law enforcement agency in existence’, you get the picture.”

I did, but Ialliis was apparently lost amidst all the ‘alien' analogies. “Um, Lieutenant, Sir, what does bovine feces and being given a physical image have to do with this?”  _ Bovine feces and physical image? Guess her translator had a hiccup when trying to put them into context. _

Figuring I may as well explain for him, I answered her. “They're both human sayings; I'll explain them later. I suggest you read up on various sayings like that in your spare time, for humans especially as they have…well, let's just say you could dedicate a series of books cataloguing them all. Nevertheless, they aren't the only ones; krogan and batarians have dozens of untranslatable phrases that can mean anything from ‘simpering coward' to ‘the food is good, but not excellent', and don't even get me started on how many the quarians have. All that said, the Citadel is  _ the _ galactic melting pot, so I suggest learning as many as possible to ensure you don't get confused when the translator is giving you problems.”

Funnily enough, aside from the info I'd found by skimming the extranet, this was actually a practice I picked up in my old life due to constantly flying to and from different parts of the world; and it still held true here where there were thousands of different languages from close to a dozen different species to work with. Try as they might, they all still had numerous outlying members that refused to conform to the official language of their race, which is why the universal translation built into every omni-tool was updated practically every day to account for any new, and occasionally, the slang version of, words.

“I will…be sure to do that, Si-I mean, Sergeant.”

Taking that as his chance to skip the ‘drawn-out bureaucratic crap' (his words, not mine) that would normally clog up the acceptance of a new officer to the force, Bailey waved in the direction of his door. “Well, what are you waiting for? The Citadel won't patrol itself. I expect to hear nothing but good news regarding how your first day as partners goes, so go on.” Ialliis looked like she was about to speak up, but he cut her off. “No. Really. Leave. I have work to do myself, and the sooner you go, the sooner I can start on it; so get out of here.”

Used to his gruff mannerisms; when he wants to be gruff, that is; I gave him a salute and left; only to turn around when I noticed she wasn't following me. Tapping on the asari's shoulder after seeing she was still frozen in place, undoubtedly stunned at the way Bailey had dismissed us, she jumped in surprise. “Hey, you don't want to be late starting work on your first day, do you?” I half whispered.

“What? I…well, no, of course not!” she replied, a little flustered.

“Then come on!” I gestured to the door myself, and this time I waited for her to leave before I did.

Once we left his office behind, it took her around 30 seconds to work up the courage to ask me what I could clearly see was on her mind. “Is he always like that?”

“You mean the Lieutenant?” She nodded in the affirmative. “Yeah, pretty much.” An aghast look told me what she thought of that.

“I mean they told us in training that humans held personalities that ranged everywhere from a skittish salarian to a bloodthirsty krogan, but I never imagined!”

Feeling slight irritation at the potential insult to both my mother race and current boss – who I happened to like, by the way – I bristled a little; though tried not to show it in my voice. “What do you mean by that?”

I apparently didn't do a good enough job, as she flinched at my words. “Well, he's just different from what I expected, is all. Back home, it was always expected for any superior to act stern and disciplined. ‘A good ship needs a hard captain!’ my dad used to tell me. Lieutenant Bailey just seems…” she trailed off.

“More relaxed? Less strict?” I offered.

“Yes, that! Well, at least that's my first impression of him anyway.” she finished lamely.

I hummed for a couple seconds, the sound more akin to a loud vibration than actual humming, contemplating her words. “Well, you're not wrong, at least compared to most of the higher-ups I've met in C-Sec. Still, he can be tough when he wants to be; he just doesn't see the point in acting uptight all the time.”

“Oh, ok then.” was her simple response, causing me to chuckle.

We passed the next several minutes in friendly conversation, which mostly just consisted of her asking me questions and me answering them as best I could, if I could; and we kept at it until we arrived at the garage where the patrol cars were parked, having gone through a thankfully fast elevator (by this universes' standards anyway; still took far longer than I'd have liked) to get there.

As we walked up to the same car I'd been using for the past week, I realized a rather glaring issue I'd been having in relation to driving.

_ Put me in a regular car and I'm perfectly fine, tell me to perform advanced maneuvers in an F-15 or F-35 and I can do it in my sleep, but driving an aircar? I'm still learning how to do that. I mean it's like a weird cross between a plane and a car, except I can also go in reverse while in the air. If not for the autopilot, I don't doubt I'd have crashed it more than once by now. Maybe if I had experience with a helicopter this would be easier? _

Mentally shrugging, I looked up just in time to notice Ialliis going for the passenger side, and spoke up before she could open the door. “I think it'd be best if you were the driver for today.”

She looked at me curiously, tilting her head in a gesture I subconsciously recognized as being a turian expression of confusion. “Sergeant?”

“I'm…not the best driver, as it stands. Most of the time I just let the autopilot do the work for me.” I told her, feeling a bit of blue form around my plated cheeks. Yes, around: turian biology is weird like that, and metal plates can't exactly change color like skin, or in this case, scales can, whether they're attached to my body or not.

She blinked incredulously before a slight ‘cheep' for lack of a better word made its way out of her, and she slapped a hand over her mouth as her chest shook in held-in laughter.

“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up; ‘the big, strong, turian C-Sec officer doesn't know how to do something a salarian toddler can figure out'.” I grumbled indignantly, and she had the good grace to take a breath to calm herself.

“Sorry, Officer Falinian. I'm just surprised to learn that the man who took down an infamous salarian smuggling ring doesn't know how to drive.” She let out another brief ‘cheep' followed by chest shaking, and I raised a brow-plate at that piece of information, only to frown when I realized she might ask me about it later.

_ Guess I'll have to master the art of being a professional bullshitter; either that, or do my best to dodge the subject. Wish she would hold it in though; I mean I'm right here! _

Deciding to show my agitation, I narrowed my eyes and cleared my throat; letting my now exaggerated subharmonics do most of the work of sounding intimidating for me. “Just get in the damn car, Patrolman!” I told her irritably, causing her to choke on her own supply of oxygen; and I then found myself struggling to keep a straight face rather than her.

When she finally managed to recover, she gave me a quiet “yessir” in lieu of an actual response and got in on the driver's side soon after. As such, I got in on the passenger's side and gestured for her to pull out. She did so without a word, the obvious nervousness shown on her face making her look like a kid afraid of getting rejected for their dream job; and considering I now had the email containing her resume thanks to Bailey re-sending the message, I understood that that was quite possibly the truth.

_ Huh; her old man was in C-Sec for over 40 years. Made captain before retiring back in the early 2150's, so just before the First Contact War. She probably grew up listening to stories of how he busted criminal gangs, was close friends with Councilors and Ambassadors, and who knows what else. Doesn't say much about her mother though. Suppose I can always ask her about her parents later to get a better idea of who I'm working with. _

My brief reading session done with, I turned off my omni-tool and decided to just keep watch for any problems that might crop up; making sure to keep an eye on the fresh from the academy patrolman next to me to see how she was doing. Not that I was really someone that could judge her personal ability considering my own lack of experience at the job, but I didn't have much else to do at the moment and needed to keep up appearances as the scrutinizing senior coworker watching to see if she made any mistakes. 

We kept going on my – or our now, I suppose – patrol route, with nothing happening for a solid hour aside from us engaging in off-and-on conversation to pass the time. I was about to tell her to head for a nearby fast-food restaurant that served both levo and dextro food – having found it on my second day here – as it was nearing lunch hour by local standards, when my ‘tool lit up with a message alert.

Opening the device, I had to force myself not to frown at the heading for the message. Anyone that saw it would probably think it to be a scam, and for good reason; but I had the debatable advantage of knowing it wasn't.  _ 'Mikaius, your Travelers vacation package is waiting to be claimed for a limited time only! Open for offer details.' _

_ That's the code phrase Zyrin gave me for an emergency op with a limited time window. What would the GST need me for so soon? Hmm, as if today wasn't busy enough with Ialliis, now I have my… ‘unofficial benefactor' giving me my first mission from the agency. Should probably open this up while we're having lunch; I just hope it isn't anything too complicated or troublesome to deal with. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ThePilotArchangel has extended the invitation to any fans of his story to participate. Simply go to his page on FF.net https://www.fanfiction.net/u/8343608/ThePilotArchangel and message him.


	22. Boarding Actions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nomad was not the first Traveler to be dumped into this Alternate Mass Effect Universe. And he most certainly will not be the last; these are the stories and adventures of the future and current members of the Systems Alliance Group for Specialized Tactics (GST).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The following stories are written as authorized expansions on ThePilotArchangel's "A Ghost and a Specter" story. This particular chapter is part of a series written by mp07.

Milky Way / In transit / spirit of fire / D - deck / Research & development wing / October 25th,, 2183 CE/AD, 12:50 Hours

Putting the last touches to the kit I leave R&D spotting another run by IAA stooges making the rounds, gawking at the tech catalog. A technician makes a motion for him to move along and not disturb the work on the labs as this seems to be a repeated offense by the spook who fummed exiting the area.

Mmmh… might wanna ask what he wanted later with Helix…

Shaking my head and heading for a free hangar to practice with the amp and take some readings of the whole assemble as the former under armor for the exo was replaced by the new “skinsuit” and armor materials, being honest the new weave and measures are nice, tight, but my back certainly is thanking the one that came up with this arrangement in credits or a good month of free rent on the Caligula.

Bright side, the space between plates are now more protected so that’s a worry less for me and the ports for the amp are reinforce with an casing making it look as a dead space rig without impacting on the flexibility, improve reaction times on the thought / meld interface to .28 seconds, some last testing and my new suit is ready to wreck the forces of EVIL!!!

Of course Raven went to nag me on why I am wearing the thing for the past 2 weeks, well the last time I left the med bay was recommended to not exacerbate the quick fix we pulled with the symbiote treatment and rest for a week to be under monitored times to get 100% confirmation of no complications, well now with a free reign of movement i intent to follow that order least i be yanked to the med bay for some stupid shit.

Let’s see if a hangar is free for practice…

In transit / spirit of fire / B - deck / hangers / October 25th, 2183 CE/AD, 18:22 Hours

*Wamp!*

Mieeeeerrrrrdaaaaaaa!!!

This is more difficult than before with the suit, the response is quicker but the amount of force after each action screwing up my control, as it can attest the third supply box that I was moving for Sykes that took a small trip on the way to the lift; at least the first box had nothing of much importance in relation to its contents, but the aftermath of its unexpected conversion to a more compact form certainly did not help me lower my irritation.

“Hey, chill out man! Be glad that you’re already holding the box more carefully than the last.”

* Sigh * “You are right but it is still frustrating that before my little stay with a band of illiterate sand eating nomads, my test runs with the first generation of the device, my control was better than now.”

Pointing to the present evidence.

“… Yes, I remember the surprise you crazy scientists gave us.”

“Hey I resent that accusation! I just passed the idea on to the R&D guys to see if it was viable, I didn't expect it to be right!”

*Looks at me skeptically*

“Incidentally I am an engineer at heart! I don't like being lumped with the sheltered lab coats without wants of any help when a problem can be solved with a simple hammer and some duct tape.”

“ah ha ... well it's not like I didn't have a crazy idea that turns out to be true when you think about the mechanisms involved.”

To that I nodded.

“Yes, if you think for a moment it is a logical progression of the abilities of each living or dead biotic.”

While we were chatting we were distracted by one of the spies doing the rounds in the hangar near the practice area of the experimental and training equipment. They were taking some photos of 'vergil' making a damn good impression of his nickname dancing all over the place drawing that sword as a flash of light from target to target.

"And who is it this time; the stooge from the IAA who cannot hide his yearning for state-of-the-art technology like a hungry dog?"

"Oh him? That cock sucker is Pietro's, he's been snooping around since Hiram came back and made him look like a petty idiot after being saved by Shultz from testing the saber he was wearing to the interview."

"Hmm… it's good to know that at least my blade can still be used for something other than scaring Dresden when he found out about the Mars simulation."

“Speaking of that, what kind of sword did you use at that rodeo?”

Smirking in though on adding another shocked witness, I reached for the hilt and ignited the emitter drawing attention by the passing Ghosts.

*bbrrrrmmm*

“oooooooohhhh” admiring the display of a cyan crucible; Sykes backs a bit to better look “Now that is a bit tacky don't you think?”

“Nah man, if you passed the gauntlet why not flaunt it?” I said while switching off the blade and clipping it back where it belonged. “Besides, I'm not the only one that went with it and goes around carrying a damn argent blade around, just ask Sidhe that crazy bint of a Noctus sniper.”

“No, no, no, no, no I'm not falling for that! I might be curious but not suicidal enough to bother the gal.”

*raised eyebrow* “You do know she is a pretty suede chick and all around pleasant company?” When I finished that sentence the crew nearby just looked aghast at me “What? It 's true!”

“Are we talking about the same girl? The one who decked the krogan at Glitterwing Maiden’s labs when we mounted that rescue op?”

“The same.”

“Yeah, nope not gonna ask.”

“Well, need me to carry anything else?”

“No, that was all that needed to be hauled. You are free to hang around though.”

“Your welcome. Hey mind if I start the range?”

“Have at it... Hey! What the void are you doing you fool!” And with that done some more training is on the docket… might as well see if I can replicate volt at some point.

Three hours of time and all I have to prove is a charred gauntlet, fatigue and FOUR blast of psyonicaly powered lighting for my efforts, Templar blades out for now due to blowing the amount of juice pump in the right brace plus the trip to the fabers to repair the thing. A productive day indeed! Might as well called and hit the sack for now.

Milky Way / Arcturus Stream / 8 light days in transit to Arcturus / spirit of fire / B - deck / hangers / October 31th, 2183 CE/AD, 08:02 Hours

*zap!* *sssssssss hhss*

Damn… still too much power... need to lower the output somehow.

“Hey Leo! take a break man! I still have to fix this engine here and all that zapping is not helping me get this done!”

Looking to the left from my beaten target one, Lara Houchens latina extraordinare and  _ paisana  _ adrift in time, of the retrieval team east rabbits is shoulder deep on hanging from the fighter’s exhaust and rising a fuzz.

“Yeah well sorry if I'm bothering you but I'm not done here.”

Lara : “And pray tell what is it that is so important?”

Leo : “Fixing the output for the amp!”

Lara : “Bah! just go and bitch at Sparkles to help you there, that little tike should be free to assist you with it.”

Leo : “... she is still mad for the plushie?”

Lara : “Oh yeah and it’s funny still how she reacted to that prank”

Leo : “To be fair you would too if your voice was used in a pony plushie and then parade it around the ship with  _ ‘I AM TWILIGHT MOTHERFUKING SPARKLES, THE PRINCESS OF FRIENDSHIP!! AND THIS IS MY FAVORITE FRIEND IN THE WHOLE GALAXY! _ ’ and a dildo tape at the front, don’t get me wrong it was funny but overboard girl.”

Lara : “Maybe but you gotta admit the entire crew ended all laughing at the show she put up when she heard about it”

Leo : “Yeah, might follow that advice in a while.” Focusing back at the targets set I go at it again and let loose a bolt of lightning faster than before to see if it’s the charges times that I can at least use to reduce the force.

*zap!* *sssssssss hhss*

some noticeable dip in the readings from the dummy… mmmh… if it is that way then it is a matter of energy gathered regardless of the technique… again.

*zap!* *sssssssss hhss*

better so far, what are the times? 0.78 seconds for a bolt of equal strength as a standard overload.... and this one?

*zap!* *sssssssss hhss*

0.98 seconds to an overcharged one… wonder what a 5 second charge will do.

*booom* *sssssssss hhss*

Welp, disintegration of the target is a bit much… lets see if I can chain it like an Area Overload…

an hour later and a fried gauntlet i called it quits and shout to the still busy lara.

Leo :  _ oye lara te parece si vemos por la cocina sí tiene pa hacer cachapas? _

Lara :  _ ¡seguro! ¿de paso me ayudas con la verga esta que ni de pinga quiere encender? _

Leo :  _ ¡Claro! _

Milky Way / Arcturus Stream / 5 light days around Arcturus / spirit of fire / B - deck / hangers / November 11th, 2183 CE/AD, 14:20 Hours

After a morning of adjusting to the rework of my amp settings and practice of frying shit to a crisp, the hunger came like a crazy woman on cocaine brandishing a knife, making me take a run for the mess and some much needed food as the exertion of will over the physical plane doesn't come cheap.

I was about to do some more exercises when a goddamn round whizzed past my head and I automatically took cover by some crates. I found that I'm not the only one seeking shelter from a rather unexpected group of Alliance personnel gunning at our asses.

“Hey what gives!!?”

“Surrender you traitors!!”

...dafuq? *winzip* fuck!

*ping!!* *winzip* ok, not helping me with leaving your ass intact there imbecil!

Looking for some support I shouted, “Hey anybody can give me some cover!?” and the response I got was rather pleasing as the work crews and some off duty teams pepper the assailants for their folly. 

Kane made his entrance by sliding near me. 

I spared him a quick glance. “Sup! what do you know about this shit!?” 

“Nothing! Shit just happened! you!?”

“Not a clue!” Taking a peek at the firefight going on the stack is pretty much for the moment on the group of SA IAA agents that have been roaming the ship for some time now and a few marines at the front of them.

“That's a problem.” Dropping to cover again we try to come up with some way to disable the clearly anxious nominees for the darwin award and settle on the good old stole the aggro.

“Hey bitchies care to cease this idiocy!!” Of course this merely lessens the amount of lead flying a tiny bit but it's something.

“Desist and surrender, you are by the order of  _ Lieutenant General Hyrum Grant of the Systems Alliance Army, _ to detain you all and place you under arrest for the murders of the Parliament!”

...wut? Is this guy tripping?

seeing our confusion at such bland trite a recording begins playing of a certain fossil.

He, general Grant, stared back at the camera, then took a breath and began.  _ “People of the Galaxy, this is Lieutenant General Hyrum Grant of the Systems Alliance Army. I regret to inform you that there has been a nuclear detonation on Arcturus Station, followed by a string of Assassinations of High Ranking members of the Systems Alliance Government.” His gaze hardened, “These attacks have been proven to have originated from the Batarian Hegemony, by order of their Supreme Chancellor; but as much as it pains me to say, it is not just the Batarians that have carried out these attacks.” _

General Grant was replaced by five photos, each with a name underneath it.

_ “Brigadier General Karl Schultz, Major August Lee, Sergeant Ayashe Kingfisher, Technical Sergeant John Weaver, and First Sergeant Voronov Filippovich. These five individuals have formed a secret Organization known as the Ghosts, with the end goal of overthrowing the Systems Alliance. If you see any of these people, then immediately report them to the authorities; do not engage, they are extremely dangerous.” _

Here Grant took pause and seemed to age ten years as he leaned forward on his desk, _ “As the Highest Ranking member of Government left in the Systems Alliance, I am hereby declaring Martial Law in human space. To the Citadel Council, I extend this simple request; stay out of this, as this is our affair to deal with. General Grant Out.” _

Smirking the bastard proclaimed the next “As you can see the order has been given to subdue you band of traitors to meet the tribunal for your crimes against the alliance!”

“The only one getting subdue is you scum, don't think that we know how you spew crap like that on the regular bootlicker! You have all been trying and failing to get any kind of data on our ship’s sense grant let you in on the refurbishment of the old girl and I wouldn't put it past you to pull shit like this just to acquire it!”

“It's a shame that you are  _ resisting the lawful  _ order form the chain of command in this trying times, marines you saw how the disregarded the  _ legitimate  _ command of the general, you may freely engage”

While that conversation was taking course I gathered as much energy as I could to end this charade. Not being the only one to get the same idea, Kane grabbed a piece of kit from his back and deployed a shield in front of me as I shouted while I slowly rose to ready my shot. “Bitch! DON'T GIVE ME THAT LIP!  _ Nací durante el asedio a la tierra, crecí a través del asedio estelar, luché contra ethereal’s, fui testigo de la guerra dorada y por nuestras mentes cegue el ojo que se ocultaba en las sombras. _ ”

Finishing this chant / rant my eyes glowed with purple wisp as the amp made my commands reality, the grunts in front of the line of fire received the shock of their lives as a psionically generated lightning jump from gun to gun in the cargo bay ending with the shields of the IAA creeps bursting from the residual charge.

Panting from the exertion our side takes the upper hand and charges at the currently cripple force as I spot a hack from my left by a work crew making the tools of the marines start blasting a quite familiar song.

Standing where I should be

Believing as I'm told to believe

Being who I should be

Doing what I should do

Did you hear what I said?

Did you get what I meant?

What you saw is an illusion

You're living in delusion

The turn of tables miffed the IAA but they still had armor to withstand the retaliation from us, for the moment that is; because as the first ones to collide with the marines make contact i was at it again with the amp and pulled  _ estos pedazos de mierda mal paridas del suelo y los lanze contra la ala de un caza con fuerza. _

Going on and on I have the future in my hands

Getting lose from days

I never could get over

Going on and on until

I'm finally myself

Getting out of this dishonest world

I never wanted

Now is the time

Now is the time

Of course being encased in those tin cans the most I got was bruises and the occasional broken bone but it let us get the bitchies away from the meat shields.

Ask me if you're anxious

I'll give you all the answers

Truth or dare – it's your choice

Your truth is what you wish for

Standing from their place the first agent to rise received a prize in the form of a chopped arm from vergil's sword strike followed by a kick to the head.

Who am I to tell you that the future's in your hands?

Set me free from lies and cold deceptions.

I'm so scared

Going on and on across this land,

Across the time

Going on to see, to feel, to breathe

I've always wanted

The rest of the scum got piled by tech discharges and blunt weapons to make them cave...

Sleepless nights

I'm spending

Counting all the words that broke my heart

I'm leaving all my past here

Then I'll see the world for sure

… one got free from the melee and ignited a blade and swung the thing to make a space...

Going on and on I have the future in my hands

Getting lose from days

I never could get over

Going on and on until

I'm finally myself

Getting out of this dishonest world

I never wanted

… which promptly received the ministrations from my blade shorting the subpar device and a psy enhanced push kick…

Now is the time

Now is the time

Chase after time

Chase after time

… to land with a awaiting kane holding two shock batons that went to town on the fucker.

With the nonsense out of the way, we accessed the comms only to find that all hell had broken loose as transports were entering three hangers and confusion was spreading through the channel until Grimm put down her foot on the intercom.

“All personnel we have inbound hostiles, be ready to repel them wherever you sight them-” *bang~!* “- I'm sad to say that Arcturus got a hole in her but right now we have problems to deal with courtesy of half of the fleet shooting at our small armada. Yeah we still have some control over the nearby ships but we have to go NOW!”

Shit this day just gets better and better! One last look at the rest of the subdue ruble we’ll have to beat for info later we disband to help the efforts and hopefully sort this mess.

Milky Way / Arcturus Stream / 20 light days around Arcturus / spirit of fire / D - deck / command center/ Bridge / November 11th, 2183 CE/AD, 14:50 Hours

Making some time to reach the bridge and the leftover signs of the fight at its entrance, the whole deal bodies lying on the way and the wounded being treated.

“GRIMM YOU THERE!?”

“Yeah, just glad to see more of the crew making it out alive.”

“and the captain?”

“Currently indisposed, one IAA bastard shot her in the left lung”

“fuck...”

“Contact! We have 4 frigates IFF shows; SSV Agincourt, SSV Dyrrhacia, SSV Perugia and SSV Stalingrad inbound in the interception course to the relay!”

“How far?”

“10 minutes ma’am!”

“Shit…” Looking at me she asked, “Care to help with the clearing of a path?”

“I’ll strap on the mech as soon as the ship is under control but-”

“Fuck one of them is charging the main gun”

“Shields!?”

“At 30 and charging!”

Looking at the people who followed me here I commanded, “Kane, Lefay, Solomon, Vepar with me! We need a barrier front now!”

Looking back to the endless black I gather as much focus as I could to slow down the shot at the bridge.

With every second I can feel the considerable pool of FORCE we are amassing and a purple light envelopes the forward view ports with some seconds to spare as the slug impacts the psionic field losing 80% of its inertia but the rest makes a resounding clang and knock us on our assess, some people are thrown from their seats but otherwise alright; us on the other hand are in no condition to tank another shot if they decide it was a fluke.

Glad the cavalry has our back in the form of a torpedo that smacked the forward guns aimed at us.

Not wasting an opportunity the bridge staff retaliated with a swift strike at the vessel from the batteries as a wing of fighters went and clear a path to the relay for our exfil

Activating the PA grimm screamed “GUNS! GET A CLEAR PATH, ALL MEDICAL PERSONNEL BE READY TO RECEIVE INJURE, WE HAVE A WALL TO BREACH, ALL HANDS SECURE ROOMS AND SUPPLIES, ALL AVAILABLE PILOTS GET ON THE STICK AND HELP.”

Not being idle during that rant I went back into the bowels of the ship and straight to the ‘mech bay’ where 5 units were still in there cables and next to our loadout selector, since there is no such thing as overkill once I got the unit running and the engagement distances are gonna be insanely vast all the missiles I could hold where loaded on the back along with some of the new torpedos.

At the first step into the void what greeted me was the occasional light show, glancing down there were other mechs shooting down boarding crafts and the too close for comfort stray shots flying everywhere.

“FORWARD, FORWARD, DISPERSE AND BE READY FOR THE CRASH!”

“ANYBODY NEEDS AMMO!?”

“HERE!!”

Ambeling to the caller I set one container to her and ran along the ship’s hull and ready all guns.

The wait was sweet and nerve wrecking until the effective ranges, going tit for tat on this retreat as the armor held and the flyboys do their dance in the infinite void to the harrowing cries of the dead seconds away from banishing in blazes of fire.

After what felt like hours of non-stop combat we got the exit on sight but our numbers were culled somewhat, all survivors were marching to the safety of the  _ Spirits  _ insides and the tally of the casualties would be counted as we jumped out of the system…

Grant I hope you know how to run because this double cross has just cost you your right to live.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ThePilotArchangel has extended the invitation to any fans of his story to participate. Simply go to his page on FF.net https://www.fanfiction.net/u/8343608/ThePilotArchangel and message him.

**Author's Note:**

> ThePilotArchangel has extended the invitation to any fans of his story to participate. Simply go to his page on FF.net https://www.fanfiction.net/u/8343608/ThePilotArchangel and message him.


End file.
